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OF   VERSE  ' 



With  ID  Appendix  Conuiniog  a  Few  Welt-known  Poemi 
in  Other  Language* 

Sdecled  and  unngcd 





.    ■;  1 



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Foi  the  use  of  tbe  copyrighted  miterial  included  in  this  volume,  pa- 
minion  haa  beca  secnrra  dther  from  the  author  or  frgm  his  Buthonzcd 
publisbtT,  and  special  arrangonents  have  also  been  made  with  the  au- 
thorized publishers  of  the  older  American  pMts  whose  works,  in  whole 
Di  in  part,  have  lapsed  from  copyiight.  All  rights  in  these  poems  are 
reserved  by  the  holders  of  the  copyright,  or  the  aulhoriied  publisheiE, 
Bs  named  below: 

D.  Applclon  &  Company;  The  poems  by  WiUiam  CuUea  Bryant  and 
Umrr  Ncwbolt. 

Bane  &  Hopkins:  "The  Lav  of  the  Yulton,"  by  Robert  W.  Service, 
lrom"The  Spel!  of  the  Yukon  and  Other  Verses,"  and  •'€»">  On,"  from 
"Rhymes  of  a  Red  Cnns  Man." 

The  Bobba-MCTTill  Company:  The  poems  hy  James  Whitcomb  Riley, 
fnsB  the  BiogiBphital  Edition  of  his  complete  woriis,  copyright  iQij. 

Btentano'i:  "The  Good  Inn."  by  Hennan  Knickcibockcr  Vkli!,  from 
"The  Inn  of  tbe  Silver  Moon." 

Edmund  D.  Biooki;  The  poems  by  Arthur  Upsoa. 

The  Century  Cotnpany:  The  poems  by  Richard  Watson  Gilder,  Rob- 
ert Uodenvood  Johnson  and  Aubrey  de  Vere;  S.  Weir  Mitchell,  James 
Oppenbeiiii.  and  L.  Frank  Tookei;  " Nebuchadneizah,"  by  Irwin  Rus- 
adl:  "The  Secret,"  by  G.  E.  Woodberty;  "High  Tide  at  Gettysburg," 
by  Will  Heniy  Thompson;  "  Farragut,"  by  Wilham  Tucker  Meredith. 

Hcoiy  T.  Coates  &  Company:  "Tbe  Picket  Guard,"  by  Ethel  L(ynn 
Be«s.  and  "Monterey"  by  Charles  Fenno  HoSman. 

W.  B.  Coalcnr  Co.:  The  poems  by  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox,  by  spedcl 
permission  of  the  W.  B,  Conkey  Co,,  who  are  the  exduave  Americaa 
publishen  of  her  works. 

Copclaod  &  Day:  The  poems  by  Alice  Brown,  from  "The  Koad  to 

Dana  Estes  Si  Company:  The  poems  by  Samuel  Mintum  Peck  am) 
Mrs.  Laura  E.Richards;  "July"  by  Susan  H.Swett, 

Dodd.  Mead  &  Company:  The  poems  by  Austin  Dobson  and  Paul 
Laumcc  Dunbar;  "My  Catbird,"  by  WilGam  Heniy  Venable;  "The 
Poster  Girl."  by  Carolyn  Wells. 

GeorEe  H.  Doran  Company:  The  poams  by  May  Byron,  Amelia 
Josephine  Burr  and  Joyce  Kilmer. 

Duffield  &  Company:  The  poems  by  Elsa.  Barker,  Eugene  Lee-Ham- 
ilton.  r>eofge  Saotayana,  William  Skarp,  and  Hden  Hay  Whitney. 

E.  P.  Dultoni  Company:  "Tbe  Spirraol Oxford,"  by  Winifred  I^lls. 
Forbes  &  Company:  The  poems  by  Ben  King  and  NUon  Waterman. 
The  Four  Seas  Company:  The  poems  by  Richard  Aldington. 
Laurence  J.  Gomme:  The  poeros  by  Hihiire  Belloc. 

The  Grafton  Press:  The  poems  by  John  S.  McGroarty. 

Harper  &  Btothefs:  The  poems  by  Guy  Wetmore  Cartyl,  Charlea 
Crahun  Halpiite,  Don  Marquis,  Ada  Foster  Murray,  and  Justin  Huntly 
McCarthy,  the  latter  from  lut  novel,  "  If  I  were  King,"  copyright  njQi, 
by  Robert  Howard  Ru«ell; "  An  Omar  for  Ladies,"  by  JosephinaDaskam 
Bacoo;  "Drrring  Homo  the  Cows."  by  Kate  Putnam  Osgood. 

Heoiy  Holt  &  Company.  The  jxiems  by  Susan  N,  Cleshom.  Arthur 
Cotton,  Walter  de  la  More,  Fr«ncis  Miles  Finch,  Robert  Frost,  Charles 
Leonaitl  Moore,  Herbert  Trench.  Louis  Untermeyer  oikI  Uargn/et 

BougliCoa.Mifflinat  Company:  The  poems  by  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich, 
H.  H.  Bashford,  Abbic  Farwell  Btowd,  John  Burroughs,  Ahce  Gary, 
Pboebe  Caiy,  John  Vance  Cheney,  Christopher  Pearse  Crancb,  Ral^ 

4'2{)B2ii  ..„,.,Google 

Copyright  Notice 

WaWo  Emerson.  James  Thomas  Fields,  Richard  Watson  Gilder,  Jmwx 
Imogen  Guiney,  Bret  Harle.  John  Hay,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  Lucy 
Larcom,  Emma.  Lazarus,  Henry  Wadsworth  LonRfellow,  James  Russell 
Lowell,  William  Vaynhn  Moody,AlicB  Freeman  I'alnier,  Thomas  William 
Parsons.  Josephine  Preston  Peabody,  Nori  Perry.  Lizcttc  Woodworth 
Reese,  John  Godfrey  Saie,  Robert  HavcEi  Schauffler,  Paul  Shivcll.  Ed- 
ward Rowland  Hill,  Harriet  Prescoll  Spofford.  Ernest  Clarence  Stcdman, 
William  Wetmore  Story,  Harriet  tjeecher  Slowe,  Bayard  Taylor,  Celia 
Thanfer,  Mith  M.  Thomas.  Maurice  Thompson,  Henry  David  Tbormn. 
John  Townsend  Trowbridge,  Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps  Wart!,  John  Green- 
leaf  Whittier. 

The  Howard  University  Print;  "The  Babie,"  by  JafcmUh  Eames 

8.  W.  Uucbsch:  The  poems  by  Irene  Rutherford  McLeod. 

P.  J.  Kenedy:  The  poems  by  Abram  J,  Ryan. 

Mitchell  Kennerley:  The  poems  by  Arthur  Davison  fltke,  William 
Samuel  Johnson,  Hany  Kemp.  Vacbel  Undaay,  Richard  Middleton  and 
Marjorie  L.  C.  Pickthall. 

Alfred  A.  Knopf;  The  poems  by  William  H,  Davies. 

John  Lane  Company:  The  poems  by  Laurence  Binyon,  Rupert 
Brooke,  G.  K.  Chesterton,  T.  A.  Daly,  John  Davidson.  Ernest  Dowsoo, 
A.  E,  Housman,  Laurence  Hope.  Benjamin  R.  C.  Low.  Alice  Meynell, 
Henry  Newbolt,  Marjorie  L.  C.  Ptcklhall,  and  Francis  Thompson. 

J.  B.  Lippincolt  Company:  The  poems  by  Georfte  Henry  Baker, 
Harrison  S.  Morris,  Thomas  Buchanan  Read  and  Mary  Ashley  Town- 
Little.  Brown  &  Company:  The  poems  by  Richard  Burton.  Suaan 
Coolidfte,  Emily  Dickinson,  Hden  Hunt  Jackson.  Louise  Chandler 

Lothrop,  Lee  Si  Shepan)  Company:  The  poems  by  Charles  Fallen 
Adams,  Mary  Emily  Bradley,  Alfred  Domett,  Paul  Hamilton  Hayne. 
William  Morris,  Emilie  Poul»ion,  Horatio  Nelson  Powers,  David  Atwood 

The  Macmillan  Company:  The  poems  by  Matthew  Arnold.  Alfred 
Austiti.  Wilfrid  Wilson  Oibiion,  Thomas  Hardy,  Ella  HiRginson,  Charles 
Kiossley,  Amy  Lowell,  John  Masefield,  Harriet  Monroe.  John  G.  Net- 
hatdt,  George  William  Russell,  John  Additwlon  Symonds,  Sara  Teasdale, 
William  Watson,  Geor«e  E.  Woodberry  and  William  Butler  Yeats. 

The  Manas  Press:  The  poems  by  Adelaide  Crapscy. 

Thomas  B.  Moshet:  The  poems  by  Cedly  Foa-Smilh.  Lucy  Lyttlelon 
and  Edith  M.  Thomas. 

L.  C.  Page  &  Company:  The  poems  by  Bliss  Cannan  and  Chnries  G. 
D.  Roberts. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons:  The  poems  by  William  Henry  Orammond  and 
Norman  Gale;  "The  Rosary,"  by  Robert  Cameron  Rogers. 

Norman  Remington  Company:  The  poems  by  Patrick  R.  Chalmers, 
from  "Green  Days  and  Blue  Days." 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons:  The  poems  by  Josephine  Dasfcam  Bacon, 
H.  C.  Bunner,  George  W.  Cable.  Maty  Mapes  Dodge.  Eugene  Kil-Ii). 
John  Galsworthy,  Josiah  Gilbert  Holland,  Sidney  Lanier,  George  Mer- 
edith, A.  T,  Quiller-Couch.  Corinne  Roosevelt  Robinson.  George  Sama- 
yana.  Alan  Seeger,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard. 
Benjamin  F,  T.iylor  and  Henry  Van  Dyke. 

Sheiman.  French  &  Company:  "The  Lonely  Road,"  by  Kenneth 
Rand;  "Sunday  Evening  in  the  Common,"  by  John  Hall  Wheclock. 

Small,  Maynard  Sr  Company:  The  poems  by  Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson 
Oilman,  Richard  Hovey,  CImlon  Scollard,  John  B.  Tabb  and  Walt 

Stewart  &  Kidd  Cn.:  The  pmfm  by  Wm.  Oaynes  I.ylle. 

F.  A.  Stokes  Comruny:  The  poems  by  G«>rt1  Burgess,  Alfred  Noyes, 
and  Swnu<'1  Uinturn  Peck. 

Whitaker  &  Ray-Wiggin  Company:  The  poems  by  Joaquin  Miller, 


Copyright  Notice 

Etpress  personal  permissTon  has  be*n  i«eived  by  tbe  edilor  from  the 
blkifiiae  Butbom  for  the  use  of  such  of  their  poenu  as  appear  in  IMS' 
collection,  all  rights  to  which  are  rewrved  by  them: 

Heniy  Abbey,  Zo£  Akins,  John  Albee.  Elizabeth  Aken  Allen,  Bemy 
Milk  Alden.  Mimjaret  Steele  Anderson,  Evenird  Jack  AppletOD. 

Josephine  Daskam  Bacon,  Karle  Wilson  Baker,  John  Kendiick  Bugs, 
Kendall  BuininK,  Elsa  Barker,  H.  H,  Banhfoid,  Herbert  Bashford,  Ario 

■• ir..i — :-.i^D.<^   ""-'- "-"oc  (by  Joyce  Kilmer),  Wiiliain 

in  Bennett,  CbaricsG.BIanden, 
d^et  Bowen.  WilKua  Stinky 
Mary  Bolle*  Branch,  Albert 
,  Alice  Brown.  WilUuB  Lnrd 
Banner),  Gelett  Buigesi,  Daoa 
1  Burton,  Samuel  U.  M.  Byet^ 

E.  Carcyl,  WilU  Sibert  Cither. 

Arthur  Chapman,  John  Vance 

;.  CUrke,  VirRinia  Woodward 

Cloud.'  HorencG  Rarle  Coatcs,  Zitelh  Cocke,  Robeil  CoUyer.  Heko  Gray 

Cone,  Once  Hazard  Conhlme,  Ellen  Madcay  Hutchinson  Cortteoi. 

T.  A.  Daly,  Mary  Carolyn  Uavii-s,  William  H.  Davies.  Mai^aict  De- 
land,  Charles  M.  Dickinson.  Austin  Dobson,  Digby  Hacfcworth  Oolben 
(by  Uerald  Dolben  Paul),  Julia  C.  R.  Dorr,  Wafler  G.  I>oly,  Arthur 
Conan  Doyle. 

Etaine  Ooodale  Eastman,  Florence  WITkinion  Evans. 
Arthur  Davison  Ficke  (by  C.  A.  Fide),  Sara  Teasdale  FilsiDgcT.  A. 
HuEh  Fiaber,  Mahbn  Leonard  Fisher,  Sam  Waher  Fon. 

Hamlin  Garland.  Theodosia  Garrison,  EUlen  M.  Huntington  Galea, 
Helena  de  Kay  Ciikler  (for  Richard  Watson  Gilder).  Joseph  B.  Gilder, 
Strickland  W.  Gillilan,  Charlotte  Pericins  Oilman.  J.  Scott  Glaseow, 
Charles  Buiton  <ioing,  Dora  Read  Goodale,  Homer  Greene,  Sanh  P. 
McLean  Greene,  William  Griffilh. 

Hermann  Bagedorn.  Ruth  Cuthrie  HardinR,  Virginia  Bioren  Harriton, 
Jemne  A.  Hart,  Hilde«arde  Hawthorne,  Fiedendl  Henry  Hedge, 
Theresa  Helbum,  Barbara  Henderson,  Oliver  Herford,  Ella  Hicginion, 
Katherine  Tynan  Hinkson,  William  Dean  Howelli,  Helen  Huntington. 

|ohTi3,  Robert  Underwood  Johnson,  WiUiam 
.  JflDcti,  Thomas  S.  Jones,  Jr. 
n,  James  B.  Ken>-on.  Joyce  Kilmer,  Harriet 
m  Goddard  King.  Rudyard  KIpUng  (fur 
1  (for  Frederic  Lawrence  Knowles),  George 

itned,  Loun  V.  Le  Doux,  Richard  Le  Gal- 
Isay,  Grace  Denio  Litchfield,  Robert  Lovtt 
man.  Benjamin  R.  C.  Low,  Amy  Lowell. 

John  S.  McGroarly,  Isabel  E.  Mack  ay,  Frederick  Manning.  Edwin 
Harkham.  Josephine  Peabody  Marks,  Don  Marqui.H,  Edward  Sandford 
Martin.  Caroline  Atwaler  Mason,  Alice  Meynell,  Lloyd  Mifflin,  Edna 
St.  Vincent  Millay,  Emily  Huntington  Miller,  Harriet  Monroe,  David 
Morton,  Ada  Foster  Murray,  Kenton  Foster  Murray. 

John  G.  Neihinll,  Henry  Newbolt,  Grace  Fallow  Norton,  Alfred 

Oliver  Opdyke,  James  Oppenhdm,  Shaemas  O  Sheel. 

Albert  Bigelow  Paine,  Alice  Freeman  Falniet  (by  G.  H.  Palmer), 
Randall  Parrisb,  Harry  Thurston  Peck.  Samuel  Mintum  Peck,  William 
Alexander  Percy,  Frederick  Peterson, Sarah  M.  B.  Piatt,  Emilie  Poulsson, 
Harriet  Waters  Preston,  Edna  Dean  Proctor. 

Kenneth  Rand.  Lizelte  Woodworth  Reese.  Cale  Young  Rice,  WalUce 
Ri«,  Laura  E.  Richards,  James  Whitcomb  Rilty  (by  E.  H.  Eitel),  Harri- 
son Robertson,  Corinne  Roosevelt  Robinson,  Edwin  Ariington  Robinson, 
Robert  Cameion  Rogers,  John  Jerome  Rooney,  George  WiUiam  RumeU. 


Copyright  Notice 

Mirgiret  E.  Sangf (er,  Joseph  Sargent  (for  the  poemi  by  Coy  Wclmore 
Canyl),  Robert  Haven  Schauffler,  Edmund  H.  Scars,  Paul  Shivdl, 
David  Banks  Sickel^,  iJamct  Pitscott  SpoHotd,  Victor  Slarbuck,  Wii- 
liani  Force  Stead.  Laura  Sledman  (for  Edmuiul  Clarence  Sledman). 
GeorKe  Sterling,  Mildred  McNeal  Sweeney. 

Joseph  RusmU  Taylor,  William  Ko9<:dc  Thayer,  Edilh  M.  Thomas, 
Rose  Hariwiii  Thorpe,  L.  Frank  Tooker,  Ridgcly  Torrence,  Charles 
Hanson  Towne,  Am£lic  Rives  Troubetzkoy,  John  Townsend  Trowbridge. 

Louis  Unlermeycr. 

Henry  Van  Dyke.  William  Henry  Venable. 

Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps  Ward,  Lydia  Aveiy  Coonley  Ward,  William 
Hiyre  Ward.  Ni.on  Waterman,  Carolyn  Wells,  Kobcrl  Gilbert  Welsh, 
Carl  Werner,  Edward  J.  Wheder,  John  Hall  Whcelock,  Margaret  Wid< 
dcmer.  KlU  Wheeler  Wilcon,  Krands  Howard  Williams.  William  Winter, 
Georiie  E<tward  Woudberry,  William  Hervey  Woods,  WiUaid  Hunting- 
ton WHcht. 

Ruth  Comfort  Milchdl  Voung. 

The  compiler  is  indebted  to  the  editors  of  the  following  magazines  for 

<e  the  poems  mentioned: 
:r  "AlFer  Seek    '      "  ' 

The  Atlantic;  "AlFer  Seelen."  Mabel  Earle;  "Binbright,"  John 
Drinkwater:  "Emilia,"  Ellen  Angus  French  (Sarah  N.  CIcghorn);  '■The 
Valley  of  Vain  Verses,"  Henry  Van  Dykei  "To  Daises,"  FcandsThomp- 

The  Bellman;  "Immortalis."  David  Morton. 

The  Catholic  Standard  and  Times;  The  poems  by  T.  A.  Daly. 

The  Century:  "The  Year's  End,"  Timothy  Cole;  " Kinchinjunga," 
Cale  Vounir  Kice;  "Nested,"  Habberton  Lulham;  "To  Her— Unspoken," 
Amelia  Josephine  Burr;  "A  Lover's  Envy,"  Henry  Van  Dyke;  "Her 
Pathway,"  Cornelia  Kane  Rathbone:  '  Love  is  a  Terrible  TUng,"  Grace 
Fallow  Norton;  "Chavei."  Mildred  McNeal  Sweeney. 

Contemporary  Verse:  "Tropical  Town,"  Solomon  de  la  Selva;  "A 
Liulc  Page's  Song,"  William  Alenander  Percy. 

Harper's  Mafiazine:  "I  Shall  not  Cry  Return,"  Ellen  M.  H.  Gatesi 
"Wise,"  Lizette  Woodworth  Reese;  "Wild  Wishes,"  Ethel  M.  Hewitt. 

House  and  Garden:  "Gales  and  Doors."  Joyce  Kilmer. 

Life:  "  Finnigin  to  Flannigan,"  S.  W.  GiUUin. 

The  Outlook:  "A  Poet  Enlists,"  Amelia  Josephine  Burr. 

Poetry:  "Sunrise  on  R)n]Bl  Water,"  John  Drinkwater;  "Night  for 
Adventures."  Victor  Starbudi;  "An  InnDoralily,"  Ezra  Pound;  "A  Very 
Old  Song,"  William  Laird  Brown. 

Reody's  Mirror:  "Nora,"  Zoe  Akina. 

Scribner's  Magazine:  "Comradea."  George  Edward  Woodberiy; 
"Constancy,"  Minor  Watson;  "Turn  of  the  Road,"  Alice  Rollelt  Coe; 
"Where  Love  Is,"  Amelia  Josephine  Burr;  "Airael,"  Robert  Gilbert 






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The  attempt  it  made  in  this  coUectian  to  bring  together 
the  best  short  poems  in  the  English  language  fcom  the  time 
ofSpensei  to  the  piCsent  day,  together  nith  a  body  <A  vene 
irtiich,  U  not  great  poetry,  has  at  least  tbe  distinction  of 
wide  populaiity.  In  vbat  degiae  this  attempt  has  been 
mcccBsful  the  book  itself  must  show;  but  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  state  brie^  certain  purposes  which  the  compiler 
had  in  mind  when  he  undertook  the  ta^,  and  which  he  has 
carried  out  as  faithf^y  as  he  could. 

These  purposes  were  to  include  nothing  which  did  not 
seem  to  him  to  ring  true,  but,.at  the  same  time,  to  recognize 
the  validity  of  popular  taste  as  well  as  of  classical  taste;  to 
preserve  in  authentic  ierm  certain  fugitive  poems  which 
everyone  axhntres  but  mihich  few  kjiow  vtheie  to  ^od;  to 
lay  emphasis  upon  the  lighter  forms  of  verse;  and  to  pay 
especial  attention  to  the  work  of  livioC  £nglish  and  Ameri- 
can poets,  particularly  of  the  youJOger  generation. 

It  would  be  idle  (o  suppose  that  everything  included  here 
will  appeal  to  everyone  as  good  poetry.  Tastes  in  poetry 
dificr  even  more  inwilabiy  than  tastes  in  food;  but  the 
compiler  has  tried  to  spread  his  taUe  in  such  a  manner 
that  every  healthy  taste  may  be  abundantly  satisfied 
without  having  to  cat  of  any  dish  it  does  not  care  for.  In 
one  respect,  he  is  free  to  ctmfesa  that,  in  arranging  the 
banquet,  he  has  not  relied  upon  his  own  taste  alone.  There 
is  a  Doto  of  pensive  sentinient — the  note  which  LongEellow 
knew  how  to  strike  so  successfully — which,  according  to 
Professor  Trent,  "finds  an  echo  in  the  universal  human 
heart,"  and  this  note  the  compiler  did  not  feel  justified  in 
disregarding,  or  evea  regarding  lightly,  umply  because  his 
own  heart  happeos  to  be  indifferent  to  it.  Nor  has  he  beoi 
deterred  liom  using  a  poem  because  it  was  the  common 

p:hy  Google 

xii  Introduction 

property  of  anthologists,  or  tempted  to  include  any  be* 
cause  it  was  little  known.  For  this  is  a  collection,  not  of 
curious  or  unusual,  but  of  favorite  verse. 

There  will  be  much  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  merit 
of  the  selections  from  the  work  of  living  writers  included 
here.  Where  the  test  of  time  is  not  available,  and  the 
stamp  of  wide  approval  b  withheld,  there  remains  only  the 
test  of  individual  preference,  and  here  the  compiler  has 
tonsolted  no  judgment  but  his  own.  lie  has  been  haiiq)tred 
by  human  limitations  as  applied  to  a  mass  of  material  so 
overwhelming  in  bulk;  but  he  hopes  that  the  selection  will 
be  found  fairly  representative,  and  that  no  really  great 
poetn  of  recent  years  has  been  overlooked.  And  while  the 
restrictions  of  copyright  have  somewhat  limited  the  Kp- 
Tesentation  given  certain  American  poets,  he  believes  that 
American  verse,  as  a  whole,  receives  far  more  attention 
here  than  in  any  other  general  anthology. 


Practically  the  first  decision  the  compiler  made  with 
regard  to  this  work  was  that  it  should  be  a  collection,  not 
of  fragments,  but  of  complete  poems;  and  this,  while  it  did 
not,  of  course,  prednde  the  use  of  poems  within  poems — 
of  lyrics  from  the  dr&matists,  of  songs  from  Scott's  met- 
rical romances,  or  of  such  parentheses  as  Byron's  stanzas 
on  Waterioo — while  it  did  not  prevent  the  excision  of 
such  obvious  digressions  as  the  final  stanzas  of  Timrod's 
"Spring,"  and  while  it  was  not  construed  to  mean  that  a 
sequence  such  as  "Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese"  must  be 
given  entire,  has,  nevertheless,  resulted  in  some  dqmva- 
tions.  No  passages  will  be  found  here  from  any  of  Shake- 
speare's plays,  no  stanzas  from  the  "  Fairy  Queen,"  no  Unes 
from  "Paradise  Lost."  But  the  compiler  feels  that  such 
loss,  if  it  be  a  loss,  is  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that,  throughout  the  book,  one  gets 
complete  the  poet's  thought,  as  he  embodied  it  in  his  verse. 

The  decision  to  give  every  poem  entire  has  resulted  in  a 
few  exclusions  from  another  cause  than  that  of  length;  for 
(n  some  lyrics,  especially  of  Restoration  days,  there  b  oc- 


casioiiaBy'  a  line  Of  stanza'  tod  ir^  for  mtidArt^'taste.  ttis 
for  this  reason  that . Suckling's  inimitable  "Ballad  of  a 
Wedding"  ■wUI  riot  be  found  between  these  coveirsi  since  it 
contaiDs  one  ^tatiza  c^talrdy,  and  perhaps  threti  br  foUt', 
not  fitted  for  a  "Home  Book  of  Verefe."  A  few  other  poetns 
which  had  got  throue^  tiit  wirinowihg  as  ^  as  the  fir^t 
proofs,  wer«  finally  cut  out  for  the  fiame  reiisoh,  rather  thab 
presented  in  a  mangled  or  Bowdlerized  version. 

And,  as  already  mentioned,  the  enforcement  of  copyri^ 
restrictions  has  prevented  the  use  of  a  sihaH  number  of 
poems  which  the  compiler  wished  to  include.  There  are  a 
few  publishers  who  seem  to  tbgard  -^th  pibtiounced  dis- 
favor any  a^ection  such  ak  thi$,'knd  'n^  wiH'petmit  Ae 
use  of  poems  which'they  control  ciUier  not  at  all,  or  onl^ 
upon  conditions  which  are,  in  effect,  prohibitive,  Becausb 
of  thb,  the  admirers  Of  Henry  Cuyler  Bunntr  will  Idok  in 
vain  throug}!  these  pages  for  any  exam[:fc  of  his  delicate 
art;  and  for  the  same  reason  a  few  other  American  poets 
are  either  ab^t  altOgethM  or  only  ineagerly  represented. 
But  the  losses  from  this  cause  are  uriimportant  when  dun- 
pared  with  the  great  body  of  the  work,  and  the  comj^ler 
feels  that  he  has  little  reason  to  complain.  For  the  most 
part,  his  requests  for  copyright  permissions  have  been 
granted  with  a  most  gratifying  courtesy  and  generosFty'. 


Great  care  has  beeu  taken  to  seture  accuracy  of  text,  & 
task  whose  difficulty  only  the  anthologist  can  appreciate. 
In  so  far  as  possible,  the  copy  used  was  taken  f'ttim  die 
standard  editions  of  the  various'  poets;  and  where  there 
was  any  question  of  authenticity,  as  in  the  case'of  fugitive 
poems,  the  poem,  if  the  author  Was  Uving  and  could  bi 
found,  was  submitted  to  him  for  correction.  In  the  older 
poems,  where  there  were  varied  readings  of  equal  authority, 
the  editor  has  used  that  which  seemed  to  him  the  best ;  and 
where  there  have  been  repeated  revisions  of  a  poem,  that 
has  been  chosen  which  seemed  the  better  version:  11113  hab 
not  been,  in  every  case,  the  final  version;  for,  ai  in  the  case 
of  Coates  Kinney's  "Rain  on  the  Roof,"  dver-Tcflnement 

p:hy  Google 

:xiy  Introduction 

has  sometiioes  destroyed  the  spontandtjr  of  the  e^licr 

The  spelling  has  been  modernized  throughout,  as  tlieire 
seemed  no  reason  to  preserve  aa  archaism  not  intended  by 
the  poeti  and  such  eccentricities  of  spelling  as  vaxious 
writers  affected  have  been  made  to  conform  to  the  ac- 
cepted American  usage.  The  numbering  of  st^mzas  has 
been  omitted,  as  unnecessary  and  cumbersome.  la  every 
case  where  a  short  poem  has  been  taken  from  a  longer  one, 
a  line  has  been  added  to  indicate  its  source,  and  where  the 
author  himself  did  not  supply  a  title  for  his  poem,  the 
pr^nt  editor  has  usually  preferred  to  quote  the  first  line 
as  the  title,  rather  than  use  a  title  invented  by  someone 
eJse.  In  the  old  ballads,  a  modem  version  has  been  used 
in  prefffence  to  the  earliest  one,  which  would  be  unintelligi- 
ble to  qiany  readers;  and  the  use  of  the  apostrophe  to  in- 
dicate Ml  imaginary  shortening  of  a  syllable  has  been  done 
away  with.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is,  for  exaqiple,  co 
real  difference  between  the  pronunciation  of  "kiss'd,""kist" 
,and  "kissed,"  and  so  no  reason  why  the  regular  spelling 
should  not  be  used. 


T^  classification  used  in  this  volume  has  been  made  t9 
fit  the  poems,  and  not  the  poems  the  classification.  lit 
other  words,  with  the  exception  of  some  of  the  children's 
verse,  the  work  of  selection  was  completed  before  that  of 
classification  was  begun.  The  compiler  can  claim  for  it  no 
fundamental  originalily,  since  meet  poetry  falls  into  certain 
well-recognized  classes;  but  he  has  tried  to  make  it  more 
searching  and  exhaustive  than  is  usually  altcmpted.  He. 
has  tried,  (or  instance,  to  group  the  poems  dealing  with  the 
emotions  not  only  by  meaning,  but  by  shades  of  meaning, 
-SO  that  one  poem  would  seem  naturally  to  suggest  the  next. 
This  has,  of  course,  been  ^  task  too  fine  for  accomplish- 
luent  .with  anything  like  complete  success;  but,  as  he  has 
Jopked  through  the  final  proofs,  he  has  been  conscious  of  at 
least  a  few  happy  juxtapositions. 

Classification  is  a  nerve-racking  task,  and,  even  at  the 
best,  mu^t  ^metimes  be  pui;ely  arbitrary;  as,  for  exan^ple. 


Introduction  xr 

vhere  the  preseat  conipiler  liaa  F^aced  hn  setecdon  ham 
Merettth's  "Modem  Love"  andcr  "Love  Sonnets."  For 
Meredith's  staazas  an  mt  aamiets  &t  all,  since  they  con- 
iist  of  sixteen  lines  each;  asd  yet  they  have  essenti^ly  a 
sonnet  effect,  and  tl»ir  place  Eeemed  to  be  with  the  other 
iamoiis  sequences.  Then,  too,  there  are  many  poems  which 
may  equally  well  be  placed  under  vftiioas  headings,  so  that  it 
was,  more  <x^  less,  an  acfaitidry  dectsioil  which  placed  "The 
Coartin' "  under  "The  Coiiie<^  at  Love^'  rather  than  with 
the  bamorotB  poems,  and  "KathIeen'Ma,voumeen"  under 
"The  Parted  Lovers"  raiher  thm  "At  Her  Witodow." 

And,  however  complete  the  classificatioo  may  be,  the 
anthologUt  must  inevitably,  at  the  end,  find  himself  with  a 
number  of  poems  on  his  hands  which  belong  disthictly  ' 
nowhere,  and  which  must  yet  go  somewhere.  It  lias  been 
rather  the  fashion  to  solve  the  difGculty  by  putting  them 
anywhere;  but  the  present  compiler  has  chosen,  rather  than 
break  the  continuity  of  arrangement,  to  set  up,  in  one 
section  of  Part  VI,  a  sort  of  scrap-bag  in  which  these  odds 
and  ends  are  assembled. 

Where  every  collection  such  as  this  must  fail  of  complete 
success,  as  representing  the  whole  field  of  English  poetry,  is 
(hat  it  exalts  the  writers  of  brief  lyrics  at  the  expense  of  the 
writers  of  long  odes  and  epics  and  narrative  poems.  Such 
poets  as  Milton,  Pope  and  rolling  do  not  loom  as  large  in 
these  pages  as  their  stature  merits;  to  attempt  to  represent 
Shakespeare  by  a  few  of  his  songs  and  sonnets,  or  Swift  by 
in  e^gram,  is  manifestly  absurd;  so  that  this  collection 
can  claim  to  be  adequate  only  as  a  representation  of  Enf^ish 
lyric  poetry.  That,  it  is  hoped,  it  will  be  found  to  be — 
nmething  more  than  that,  indeed,  since  many  of  the  more 
famous  longer  poems  are  also  included;  and  it  should  be 
valuable,  too,  as  bringing  together  in  one  index  a  wide 
nnge  of  verse  not  to  be  found  in  the  average  private  library. 

In  dosing  this  resumi  of  a  task  which  has  occupied  some 
three  years  in  the  doing,  the  compiler  wishes  to  acknowl- 
edge his  deep  ind^tedness  for  many  kindnesses  to  the  Uving 
niters  whose  voA.  is  represented  here.    They  have  been 

p:hy  Google 

xvi .  Introduction  ' 

viaSonafy  belpful  and  oUiging;  not  bnly  bave  tiuiy  cordial^ 
assented  to  this  use  of  their  poems,  but  they  have  nadr 
suggestions,  bave  revised  oopy  and  have  read  proofs.  Thar 
sympathy  and'  interest  have  been  never-faiiing,  and  it  ivas 
very  largely  their  entbiuiasm  and  Cnconragement:  which 
enabled  the  compiler  to  cany  throu^  to  completion  a,  task 
before  vhich  he  faltered  more  than  once.  To  them  and  to 
their  predecessors  in  the  Sejd  of  English  song  belong  irhat- 
ever  honor  and  glory  it  may  bring;  for,  to  parapbinac  ' 
Montaigne,  the  compiler  has  contributed  to  this  Doaegay ' 
nothing  but  the  thrsid  which  binds  it;  theirs  is  its  pafume 
and  its  beauty. 

B.  E.  S. 
CntLUcotHE,  Obio, 
May  lo,  i9«* 



When  thefiist  edition  of  this  book  was  published  In  191s, 
there  was  a  tentative  agreement  between  publisher  and  com- 
piler that,  il  it  was  still  alive  at  the  end  of  ten  years,  it  shoald 
be  revised  in  an  effort  to  ke^  It  abreast  of  the  times,  and  so 
for  every  decade  thereafter.  On  neither  side  was  there  any 
r«I  expectation  that  the  agreement  would  ever  need  to  be 
carried  out;  certainly  there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
sudi  a  reviaon  would  be  possible,  or  in  any  way  necessary, 
at  the  end  of  five  years;  and  yet  this  third  edition  represents 
a  far  more  cmnpletc  revision  than  was  then  cbntemplated 
—the  addition  of  five  hundred  and  ninety  poems,  and  the 
deletion  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-nine;  entire  lepn^&tjon, 
and  innumerable  minor  changes. 

It  is,  of  COTiree,  primarily  because  the  book  has  been  com- 
mercially successful  that  the  publisher  is  able  to  spend  still 
more  upon  it,  but  that  alone  would  not  have  waminted  a 
revision  such  as  Uiis.  What  really  warranted  it — almost 
compelled  it—was  the  astonishing  renaissance  in  Englbh 
and  American  poetry  which  the  present  century  has  wit- 
nessed. "The  Home  Book  of  Verse"  was  launched,  by  a 
fortunate  chance,  just  when  this  renaissance  was  gathering 
volume,  and  its  success  was  due  brgely,  no  doubt,  to  the 
new  interest  in  poetry  thus  evoked.  But  this  also  had  the 
effect  of  putting  the  book  more  quickly  out  of  date,  and  any- 
00c  in  touch  with  modem  verse  could  not  but  be  disap- 
pomted  to  look  through  a  volume  such  as  this  and  find 
nothing  by  sudi  poets  as  LascMles  Abercrombie,  and  John 
MaseiSeld,  and  G.  K.  Chesterton,  and  Walter  de  la  Mare, 
and  Robert  FVost,  and  Vachel  Lindsay,  and  Richard  Middle- 
ton,  and  Ralph  Hodgson,  and  Rupert  Brooke. 

It  is  from  the  work  of  this  younger  choir  that  the  additions 

have  v«y  lajgety  been  made,  and  among  them  wlU  be  found 

Hme  lyrics  as  fresh  and  kively  as  any  in  the  volume — and 

» true  to  the  great  traditions  of  English  poetry.   The  dele- 



xviii     Introduction  to  the  Third  Edition 

tions  are  partly  of  verses  whose  inclusion  was  originally 
detenni'ned — as  the  compiler  now  realizes — by  quoUbilily 
rather  than  by  merit,  and  partly  of  those  which  failed  to 
stand  the  test  of  repeated  re-reading— the  deadliest  test 
there  is.  The  revision  is  based  upon  a  careful  examinatioo 
of  every  significant  bool(  of  poetry  published  in  this  counliy 
since  1QI3,  andof  many  published  in  England,  as  well  as  of  a 
number  of  older  books  to  which  ihe  compiler  bad  not  pre- 
viously had  access. 

He  has  also  had  the  assistance  of  the  many  columns  of 
critical  comment  evoked  by  the  appearance  of  the  original 
edition,  and  he  is  not  ashamed  to  say  that  bb  attention  was 
caJIed  in  this  way  to  many  notable  poems  with  whkh  he, 
was  entirely  unfamiliar.  Second  in  value  only  to  the 
printed  criticism  was  the  great  mass  of  correspondence 
which  came  and  is  still  coming  from  all  over  the  country—^ 
delightful  letters  which  prove  how  widespread  and  genuine 
is  the  love  of  poetry. 

The  one  general  crilicism^as  against  ^iedfic  complaints 
of  certain  omissions — which  seemed  best  founded  was  that 
no  adequate  representation  was  given  to  the  great  odes  of 
English  poetry.  The  compiler's  first  thought  had  been  that 
they  were  too  long  to  be  included  in  a  book  which  is  cssen-  ■' 
tially  a  collection  of  lyrics;  but  reflection  convinced  him  that 
these  odes  did  have  a  place  here,  and  some  six  or  seven  of 
than  have  been  added. 

The  well-grounded  specific  criticisms  were  too  numerous 
to  be  enumerated;  but  a  particularly  striking  one  was  Utat,  ' 
while  the  "Rub4iy3t,"  the  great  skeptical  poem  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  was  given  entire,  there  was  nothing,  or 
practically  nothing,  from  the  century's  great  poem  of  faith, 
"In  Memoriam."  A  careful  selection  from  "InMgmoriam" 
will  be  found  in  this  edition,  preceded  by  two  sections  from 
another  great  poem,  which  also  in  a  way  _cou[itcrs  the 
"Rub&iy4t,"  though  from  a  vastly  different  angle — Sir 
Richard  Burton's  "Kasidah." 

Then,  too,  the  prestige  which  the  book  had  gained  made  it 
possible  to  secure  permission  to  use  certain  poems  which  were 
denied  to  an  unknown  adventure.  Lovers  of  I^  C.  Bunner 
win  £ad  nine  of  his  poems  here,  and  a  mimber  of  other 


Introd<ictifln  .to  ihe.  Third  Edition    xix 

poets  aie  lepreaeoted  more  adequately  than  was  posahla 
five  years  ago.  When  the  compiler  says  that  he  believea 
Ihis  third  edition  to  be  a  far  finer  achievement  than  was 
the  &ist  <»)£,  he  vill  be  pankuied,  since  the  ment  is  so  largely 
that  of  otbef5. 

Not  least  that  of  other  anthologists.  Every  general 
collection  such  as  this  must  have  its  foundations  in  other 
collections,  from  the  very  first  ones  which  preserved  the 
"Reliques"  and  "Pastorals,"  to  the  very  latest  which  pre- 
serve* the  magazine  verse  of  the  year.  The  debt  varies,  of 
course,  but  it  is  nevertheless  a  debt  which  the  compiler  has 
often  felt  should  have  beea  acknowledged  In  his  original 
btiodiictiffn,  and  which  is  most  heartily  acknowledged  here. 

The  general  plan  of  the  book  has  remained  unchanged, 
acept  in  one  or  two  very  minor  details.  The  compiler 
found  that,  in  spite  of  his  best  efforts,  a  few  incomplete 
poems  had  crept  into  the  first  edition.  These  have  either 
been  completed  or  labelled  as  extracts;  and  two  or  three 
other  incomplete  ones  have  been  added — notably  Suckling's 
"Ballad  Upon  a  Wedding,"  minus  five  stanzas.  It  simply 
had  to  come  in!  Several  questions  of  uncertain  authorship 
have  been  solved.  There  is  no  longer  any  doubt  in  the  com- 
piler's mind  as  to  who  wrote  "Hochi  der  Kaiser,"  and 
"There  is  no  Death,"  and  "Little  Drops  of  Water,"  and  "At 
a  Cowboy  Dance."  And  a  number  of  disputed  readings 
have  been  setlled^to  his  satisfaction,  at  least.  For  example, 
after  examining  forty-three  editions  of  the  "New  England 
Primer,"  he  has  found  the  weight  o[  authority  to  lie  on  the 

"Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep, 
rather  than 

"I  pray  Thee,  Lord,  my  soul  to  keep." 
He  has  taken  a  real  joy,  by  discovering  a  misplaced  comma, 
ia  changing  the  mediocre  line, 

"Her  hand  se«ned  milk,  in  milk  it  was  so  white," 
to  the  far  more  striking 

"Her  hand  seemed  milk  in  milk,  it  was  so  white." 


XX     introduction  to  the  Third  Edidoil 

He  has  corrected  all  the  typognphical  errors  he  tad  himaetf 
discovered  or  Which  had  beoi  pointed  out  by  many  oor- 
respondents;  he  has  labored  to  make  the  biographical  dat« 
as  complete  as  possible;  he  has  checked  up  the  poems  in  tM 
book  with  such  definitive  or  revised  or  collected  editloas 
as  have  appeared  since  1911;  and  he  feeb  that  the  ttxt  may 
be  relied  upon  as  accurate  and  authoritative. 

Finally,  he  must  again  express  his  deep  scAse  of  obNgation 
to  those  living  poets,  both  English  and  American,  who  have 
been  so  unstinted  in  appreciation,  and  so  generous  in  per- 
mitting the  use  of  their  work.  Without  their  help,  this  new 
edition  would  nave  been  impossiUe. 

B.  E.  S. 
Chilucothe,  Ohio, 

December  1, 1917. 

p:hy  Google 


Seasons JolmKeals 

..^New-Born  Baby  Girl Grace  BaiariiConUmg 

To  Uttk  Ren*o WBiam  AspataaU  Bradlej. . 

A  Rhyme  of  One FrtdtrUk  Lochtr-Lampion . . . 

To  a  New-Born  Child Cetmo  MoniJieuse 

«■  Baby  Hay WiUUin  Cox  BmtuU 

Alice BtrbertBisUerd 

Songs  for  Fnsolelta Rkhard  LeGailiaan 

CboosJDg  a  Name iSary  Lamb 

Weighing  ihe  Baby ElMd  Lynn  Bars 

Etude  Rialiste Algttntit  Ckaiia  Swmbtmt. . 

Little  Feet EiaabtlkAkai 

Tbe  Babie Jtremtah  Eamts  Sattkin 

Little  Hands Laurena  Binyim 

Banbotomcw f/armatGab 

Tbe  Storm-Child Jtay  Byron 

"On  Patent  Knea" WmtmJma 

"Philip,  My  King" Din^  Maria  Mtdack  CraH. . 

Tbe  King  of  tbe  Cradle Jeitpk  AshbySterry 

^BsThe  Fintborn Jeln  Arlknr  GaodcUid 

No  Baby  JD  tbe  HoDse data  DeUiva 

— ^Oar  Wee  White  Rose Gtrald  Masiey .  .    

Into  tbe  Worid  and  Out Sarak  il.  P.  PiaU 

"Baby  Sleepa" Sanmd  Hindi    

Baby  Bell Thomas  BaiUy  Aidrick 


Mother  Goose's  Mdodin UHkiuvm 

Jack  and  Jill Unhurum 

The  Queen  of  Hearts Vnbmiii 

little  Bo- Peep Untiunm 

b  Mary's  Lamb f/iiJbwtDit 

Tbe  Star Jant  Tayltr 

"Sing  a  Song  of  Siipeoce" Unkyunint 

SmpleadMn Unkmnai. 

The  Breakfast  Song Emilie  PouhtM 

"I  Had  a  Uttle  Huiband" Unkmnim 

'When  I  Was  a  B«^k>r" U»k»mm 

TobDuy  Shall  HaveaKew  Bonnet".  I/ninoMfli 

tie  Oty  Mouse  and   llw   Garden 

Mouse \.  .Ckrittiita  Ratstlli 

'kal:^  Radbreast Uttlmnm 



Table  of  Contents 

Si^nion  Grundy Urihii>m 

"Meny  Are  the  Bells" Vnhiomi 

"When  Good  King  Arthur  Ruled  Thia 

iand" UMimmH 

^1  Had  a  Litde  DogO  " (/BfawHW 

"A  Farmer  Went  Trotting" Vnimmn 

^;>Tbe  Owl  and  the  Eel  and  th«  Warm. 

^^ing  Pan" Laura  E.  ftidaads 

•TTieCoi",. AtinTayht 

-'The  Lamb WWiaiK  Biatt 

— »LitUc  Raindrops : , . . ,  .UnknfWH 

,^^"Moon,  So  Round  and  Yellow".   . .  .Uaukiai  Bart 

The  House  That  Jack  Btult UnMiunm 

CHd  Mother  Hubbard UtikaawH 

l^The  Death  and  Burial  ot  Ci>ck  Rotrio. .  Uitknmm 

Baby -Land GcBrre  Cm/per 

The  First  Tooth  ^ WiUuim  Biighly  Rands 

Baby's  Break(B«t' Emilu  Poulssm 

—The  Moon EUta  Lti  PeOfn 

Baby  at  Play ..Unkiunm 

The  DiSerence Laura  E.  Rickarit 

Foot  SoUifts Jnlin  Banisler  Tabb 

Tom  Thumb's  Al{^abet UninMai 

Grammar  in  Rhyme UHtnown 

— •  Days  of  ihe  Month Uninmm 

i^  T%e  Garden  Year Sara  Coleridge 

Riddles Unknavm 

Ptoverhs. VBknoan 

■""  Weather  Wisdom Unlmwin 

Old  Superstitions Untnmm 


Wynfccn,  BIynken.  and  Nod Eutetie  Field 

The  Sugar- Plum  Tree Eugeiu  Field ; 

When  the  Sleepy  Man  Comes Charles  G.  D.  Roberts 

Auld  Daddy  Darkness James  Pergmoii 

Willie  Winkie WiSiaM  Uillrr 

The  Sandman Margaret  Tkamimi  Jamiir.. , 

The  Dustman Frederick  EdwviWealkerly.. 

Soihestia's  Lullaby R(^>ert  Greene 

"Gddm  Slumben  Kiss  Your  Eyes". rAnmiu  Det^xr 

"Sleep,  Baby,  Sleep" Cearpi  Wilhir 

Mother's  SMg Uskunn 

A  Lullaby Hidiard  Raaiattds 

A  Cradle  Hymn ItaatWalU 

Cradle  Song WiRiam  Blake 

Lullaby Candina  Naamt 

LuUaby  o(  an  Infant  Chief Waller  Scull 

Good-Night JmuTayler 

"Lullaby,  O  Lullaby" William  Cox  Beiuiea. 

Lullaby Alfred  Tennyson 

TheCottager  to  Her  Infant DorBlkyWariranirth 

Trot,  Trotl Mary  P.  Satis 

Holy  Innocents Christina  Ceorgimi  RoitetlL. , 

Lullaby Jtsiah  Gilbert  BoUand 

Cradle  Song Jtsiah  Gilbert  HaUand 

An  Irish  Lullaby Alfred  Prrceeal  Grates 

Cradle  Song JastpUruFtam  Peatoiy... 

Mother-Song  from  "Prince  l,\idlet"  .Al/rtd  Austin , 

Kentucky  Babe Riihard  Henry  Buth 

Minnie  and  Winnie Alfred  Tennyson 


Table  of  Contents 

vfbe  Butterfly  and  the  Bee WiBiam  Lisle  Baaits. 

i  The  Butterfly Addaidt  O'Ketfe 

MoniiiiK Jaiu  Taylor 

Biittercaps  and  Daisies Mary  Bamlt. 

wilte  Ant  and  the  Cricket t/nbunm. . . 

After  Wings Sarah  M.  B.  Piall. 

Deeds  of  KindnesL Epcs  Sargent . . 

tTiK  Lion  and  the  Mouse J^reyi  Taylvr. 

^c  Boy  and  the  Wolf /oAm  Boakham  Fr 

'Ttie  Story  of  Augustus.  Who  Would 

Not  Have  Any  Soup Reinridi  Bowman 

TheSloryof  Li[t1eSudc-A-Thumb. . .  Heinriili  Bi^inati 
Written  m  a  Little  Udy's  Litlte  Al- 
bum      Fredtritk  WUSiam  Faber. 

My  Udy  Wind Vnhunm 

To  a  Child WiUiam  Wordiworlh . . . 

'     A  Faiewell Ciarki  KingiUy 



Table  of  Contents 

ScdomoD  Gnindy Unhunm 

"Meny  Are  the  Bdb" Unhum "' 

"When  Good  King  Arthur  Ruled  This                                     ■ "^ 

Laod" Unbunm .« *« 

V"!  Had  a  Little  Doggy" Untnnm ,™'  v  ■  -  J^ 

"A  Farmer  Went  Trotting" Unlmowit ioh.ui..  .  .  jb 

,^he  Owl  and  the  Ed  end  the  Wann- 

-^e  Cow. , 
-'Thel      ■ 

..EdiihNtsbU.  . 

—        Vifi'^ '™™'iio^  ■  ■    ■   BdtB  Bamm  Bastarick '■ 

'-'•'*^"°?  While  Lily Cw«  MaedonM ,.  ^  i, 

(^TheUeiMness  or  Nature,.  .   f^^.  .WUIiamCulkn  BryoK.. 

gsby^LM^ , W.  Graham  Roberliim . . 

The  First, * WiUiaM  Btake 

Baby  s  Hr»,  child's  Question Samitd  Taylor  CeltTidfe. . 

"f™  Moon.<mi«,.i.^^0j,„n 5„o„  Caoddge .  __ 

!^'"'.iS-r°"^^**™^-'     FkoOeCary 143 

The,lS«:ltet  9  Story .  .Emma  BuBlinftm  NasiM 145 

5««e  Sinpng-Lesson j-cuk  Jtuf/iaB  147 

'Chanticleer Kaiktrnulyirmit    149 

_  '  "What  Does  Little  Birdie  Say?",... -4ifre<(rotByjiwi.>.. iso 

--^      Nurse'!  Song Wmiam  Btakc.  J ici 

— T;aclt  Frost , Gabrid  Stlom . . '. ,". ,  iji 

--    "October's  Parly .Cenrge  Caoptr is*- 

The  Shepherd Wmiam  Blaki 153 

Nikollna Crfio  Thaxler isa 

Lillle  (iuslava Cclia  Thaxter 154 

Prince  Tatters Laura  E.  Rkharit.  .•; iss 

The  yttle  Black  Boy tViiliam  Blake.  .Vf-:'. 156 

The  Blind  Boy CnUey  Ciiber . .  ,^:?.'.'t 157 

The  Witch  in  the  Glass Sarah  M.  P.  Piatt. .-.  .-.x  ....  157 

My  Shadow .Robert  Lauii  ^fcwMm.- is8 

The  Land  of  Counterpane Kubert  Leais  5fnBt^i ,-'!...,  158 

The  Land  ot  Story-Boolia Roberi  Louis  SiiVetiVbk  .'f. .. .  isg 

The  Gardener Sebrrt  Limit  Sletfnslir.'y'.  ...  160 

Foreign  Landi Robert  Louis  SteuensoK. ife 

My  Bed  is  a  Boat Robert  Leuis  Stnenstm 161 

The  Peddler's  Caravan William  Brigkiy  Ratub 161 

Mr.  CoMS Edward  Verrall  Ltuas i&i 

■The  Building  of  the  Nest Margaret  Sanisler i6j 

"There  was  a  Jolly  Miller" Isaae  Bicteril^ 163 

One  and  One Mary  if  apes  Dodge 164 

A  Nursery  Song tawo  B.  Richards i6s 

A  Mortifying  Mistake Anna  Maria  Prall 166 

The  Raggedy  Man James  Wkilcomb  Riley 166 

The  Man  In  the  Moon James  Whilcomb  RUey 168 

Little  Oiphant  Annie JamesWkilcanA  RUey 169 

Our  Hired  Girl Jama  Whilcomb  Riley 171 

Seein'  Things Eugene  Field 17J 

The  Duel Eugern  Field 173 

Holy  Thursday William  Blakt iT4 

A  Sloiy  for  a  Child Bayard  Taylor 175 

The  Spider  and  the  Fly Mary  Hmrill 17* 

The  Captain's  DflURhter J arnes  Thomas  Fieldi 178 

-J  The  Nightingale  and  the  Glow-Worm,H'tUiaiHC»wJer 179 

Sir  Urk  and  King  Sun:  A  Parable..   George  UacdotuiU iSo 

The  Courtship,  Merry  Marriage,  and 
Picnic  Dinner  of  Cock  Robin  and 

Jenny  Wreo Unhunm 18) 

p-hy  Google 

Table  of  Contents 

'   Fro"*''  "^ 


"Cod  Rest  Yo^  J^trOentlCnren      .  _ 

"OLitUe  Town  ol  Bethlehem" Phillips  Breais . 

A  Christmas  Hymn Alfred  DimeU 

"While    Shepherds    Watched    Iheir 

Flocks  by  NiKhl" NalniHTale 

ChrisUnas  Carols Edmund  Hamiilm  Sears.    .  .  . 

TIk  AniEcb William  Drummmd 

The  BumiM  Babe  Rabrrl  Soulhuill 

Tryste  Noff. Louise  Imocen  Cuiaey 

Chrislmas  Carol. Untnoim 

"  BriKhlcst  and  Best  ol  the  Sons  of 

Ihc  Morning" ftisinaSd  llebrr 

Christmas  Belb Ilenry  Waiswcrli  LrniRfellea . 

A  Christmas  Carol Gilbert  Kcilk  CktslerlBn 

The  House  of  Christmas , Cahtrt  Keilh  ChfMrloii 

The  Feast  of  the  Snow Gilbert  Keith  Ckeiltrtm 

Mary's  Baby Shatmai  OSked 

Gates  and  Doors Joyce  KHmer 

The  Three  Kings Ilenry  WadsiBOrlt  iMiifelltic. 

Lullaby  in  BetUehem Henry  Hnwarlh  Baskfnd . 

-^Child's  Song  of  Christmas Marjorie  L.  C.  PichlhaU 

Jest  'Pore  Christmas Bueenf  Fidd . 

A  Visit  from  St.  Nicholas ClemetU  Clark  Uoerc 

iCetemoDiea  for  Christmas Robert  Btrrick 

On  the  MoraiiigofClirist'a  Nativity.. yute  Mi/ton 



The  Faiiy  Boot NermaitGaU 

Faliy  Sones Wmam  Shakespeare. 

^leen  Mtui , Ben  Jonsan 

vVtK  Elf  and  the  Dormouse Oliver  Btrfard 

"Oh!  Wheie  Do  Fairies  Hide  Their 

Heads?" Thomas  Raynes  Bayly. 

Fairy  Song Leigh  Himl 

Dream  SoDg Richard  Uiddlelm 156    . 

Fafry  Song John  Keals .... 

?ueenMab Thomas  Bood . . 
be  Fairies  of  the  CaldoD-Low Mary 

TheFairies ,  ,  _ 

The  Fairy  Thrall Mary  C.G.  Byron. . 

FsreireU  to  the  Fairies Richard  Corbel.. 

The  Fairy  Folk Roberl  Bird 

The  Fairy  Boolt Atbie  PamM  Brincn 146 

The  Visitor. Patrick  R.  Chalmers 

The  Little  F.lf John  Kendriek  Bancs 

The  Satyrs  and  the  Moon Herherl  S.Gorman 


The  Children Charles  Monroe  Dickinsen.  .. 

The  Children's  How Henry  Wadsworlh  Longfeltmi. 

Laus  Tnfantium. . .- William  Canton 

The  Desire KalAerine  Tynan 


Table  of"  Contents 

A  Child's  Laugbtet Axemen  Charla  Smittunt..    as4 

Seven  Years  Old Algtmon  Ckarlts  Sviiibarae. .    153 

Creep  Afore  Yc  Cmg .James  Ballaatiae 156 

Caslies  in  the  Air Jamts  Ballanline jjj 

Under  My  Window Thomas  Wtslwood 158 

Little  Bell Thamai  Weuvwid jjg 

The  Barefoot  Boy JaJia  Graidcaf  WkUtier 161 

The  Heritage Jama  Rutsell  LmctU i6j 

Lclly's  Globe Charlts  TtHnyion  Turner. . . .    i6s 

Dove's  Nest Jesefh  RusseU  Taylor ibb 

The  Oracle Arlkiir  DacUoH  Ficte s66 

To  a  Little  Girl Hden  Parry  Edm 367 

To  a  Little  CM Custm  Ki>bbi 267 

A  Parenul  Ode  to  My  Sou Thomas  Bood 168 

A  New  Poet WUtiam  Cattlon 160 

To  Laura  W— ,  Two  Years  Old Sathaniti  Parktr  WUlis J70 

To  Rose Sara  Teasdatt 171 

To  Charlotte  Pultency Ambrose  Philips , ." J73 

The  Kcture  ol  Little  T,  C.  in  s  Pros- 
pert  of  Flowers Andrra  Ufarwtt, J73 

To  Hartley  Coleridj!c WUliam  fVordstoerlh 375 

To  a  Child  of  Quality Mt^Acic  Prior 576 

Ex  Ore  InCaDtium Ffanca  ThompiOH 177 

Obiluaiy Thomas  William  Parsons, . . .    278 

The  Child's  Heritage JotmG.Ntihardt 17^ 

A  Girt  of  Pompeii Edward  Saadford  Marlia ....  i3o 

On  Ihe  Pirturc  of  &  "Child  Tired  of 

Play"'. Nathaniel  Parker  WUlis iSo 

The  Revene  of  Poor  Susan William  Wardsmorlh iSi 

Children's  Song Ford  Madox  Buefer, . .' iSi 

The  Milhcrless  Bairn William  Thorn aSi 

The  Cry  of  the  Children Elitaielh  BatreU  Brmenins. . .   i8j 

The  Shadow-Child Earrifl  Monroe 288 

Mother  Wept Joseph  Siiptey 289 

Duty Ralph  W aide  Emerson ago 

LuCT  Gray William  Wordsworth ago 

In  the  Chjjdren's  Hospital Alfred  Tennyson.. .: J91 

"If  I  Were  Dead" Cotentry  Palmore apfi 

The  Toys Coventry  Palmore ag6 

A  Song  of  Twilight Unhmam 207 

Little  Boy  Blue Eugene  Field ag8 

The  Discoverer Edmund  Clarenie  SIciman. . .    igS 

A  Chiymlis Mary  Emily  Bradley 300 

Mater  Dolorosa William  Barnes 301 

The  Litltc  Ghosl Kalherine  Tynan 301 

Motherhood Josephine  Dosham  Bacon 303 

The  Mother's  Prayer Dera  Sifersoit  Shorter 304 

T)a  Leetb  Boy Thomat  Auguslin  Daly 306 

OntbeMoer Cole  Young  Rice 307 

Epitaph  of  Dionyeia Uiihnnm 307 

ForCliariie's  Sake John  WiUiamson  Palmn. ...    308 

"Are  the  Children  at  Home?" Uargarel  Sangslrr 311 

The  Morning- Cilory Maria  While  Lowell s" 

She  Came  and  Went James  RusseU  Lowell 3r4 

_Thc  Fhsl  Snow-fall Jama  Russeli  Lowell 315 

"We  Are  Seven" , WiUiam  Wordnoorlh 316 

My  Child John  Pierpont 318 

The  Child's  Wish  Granted George  Parsons  Lalhrop jao 

Challenge. Kenlan  Foster  Murray 3 Jo 

Tired  Mothers May  Riley  Smtlh 3J1 

Siy  Daughter  Louiw Homer  Greene 321 

"I  Am  Lonely" George  Eliot 313 


•Table  of  Consents 


Miiiknbaod Henry  WadsaorUl  LoHg/tUw.  317 

To  Ibe  ViTKins,  to  Make  Much  of 

Time Raierl  Berrick 348 

To  Mistress  Munret  Hussty Jcka  Skctlea jag 

On  Her  Coming  To  LondOD Edmund  Walta jjo 

"O,  S«w  Ye  Bonny  I,«lqt" Robtrt  Btirmt 331 

^4o  B  Young  Lady WiUiam  Camftr 333 

Ruth Tlumas  Boai 33J 

TheSolitiiy  Reaper Wiiliam  Waritvarik 333 

The  Tliree  Coltue  Glrli WiBiam  Wcrdittarlh 134 

Blarkmwore  Mafdans Willuim  Bona 336 

A  Portrait ElisabiUli  Bamtl  Brnnvit. . .  338 

Ton  Child  at  Fancy Lewis  Harris 340 

Dai^ Francis  Thompson 341 

To  PetnmiUa,  Who  Has  Put  Up  Her 

Hair Jlmry  Bawarik  Baskford 343 

UteGipcyGM Baay  Aljori 344 

Fanny Atme  Scene  AUrick 344 

SoRidrady's  Child Limise  Ckaadler  MmUm MS 

EmiHa Sarah  t/.  Cltikom 346 

To  a  Greek  Girt Aiulin  Dtbsm 347 

"Cbainber  Scene" Nalkmirl  Parker  Willis 348 

"Ab.  Be  Not  Fahe" Richard  Watson  Gilder m9 

A  Life-Leason James  Whitcainb  SiUy 349 


Tbe  Breaklna Martorel  Sletle  Andersm.  ...  351 

Tbe  Flight  of  Voutli Richard  Henry  Sloddard 3SI 

"Daysof  My  Youth" Si.  Ceoree  Turter 351 

Ave  AtiTue  Vale Rosamund  Manielt  Walson..  333 

To  Youth WaUtr  Satagt  Lmdiir 354 

Stanau  Written  on  the  Kood  Be- 
tween Florence  and  i'isa Gearte  Gordim  Byrtrt. ... 354 

Stanzu  for  Masic Geerite  Gardm  Byron 355 

"When  Ai  a  Lad" IsaM  Ecckiltme  Uackay 356 

"Around  tbe  CUM". Watler  Sarage  Landor   356 

Aladdin Jasnes  Russell  Lowell 357 

Tbe  Quest Ellen   Mackey  Bulehinson 

Corlitsot 357 

My  Birth-Day Thomas  Mom 338 

Sotinet  on  His  having  Arrfvcd  to  the 

Age  of  Twenty-Ttiiee. Jehu  UilUm 3ji) 

On  ThH  Day  I  Complete  My  Thirty- 

Sixtli  Year , Georgt  Gordon  Byron 360 

Growing  GiW Austin  Dobsen 361 

Tbe  One  White  Bitir Waller  Satatt  Landor 361 

Ballade  of  Middh-Age Andrew  Lohk 363 

Middle  Age Radiipk  Chambers  Lthmann..  363 

To  Critics Wallet  Learned 366 

Tbe  Rainbow William  Wardnnorih 366 

LmveiakiDK WiUitm  Wabmt 366 

Equiooctial Addine  D.  T.  WhUnty 3*7 

"Before  the  Beginning  of  Yearn" Altemon  Charles  S-j'inbume, .  368 

Mao Henry  Vaugkan 3*Q 

TbtPlliky George  Btrbal 3Jo 

p.:hy  Google 

Table  of  Contents 

Ode  an  Ihe  Inliimtions  of  Immorlal- 
ity  frorn  RecolJectiau  of  EaHy 
ChiWhcBd .WiUiam  WoninMrrt 371 


WoDtaa EMeK  Sliuaiari  Barrea J77 

Woman From  Ihi  Sanskrit  0/  Caiidaia,  377 

Simplei  Muoditiis BinJaaian 377 

Delight  in  Disorder Bsbtrt  Berrick 3jS 

A  Praise  of  His  Lady /,.*■  HfJuxHld 378 

On  a  Certain  Lady  at  Court Aleianda  Pope 3B0 

Perfect  Woman Wmiam  Wardiworik 3S0 

Tlie  Soiitary-Hearted ffarlley  Ce/eridgt? 381 

Of  Those  Who  WiJIt  Alone RUkvd  Burton 383 

"She  Walks  in  Beauty" GiDrge  Gordon  Byrm jtj 

Prelude*  ftron   "The  Angel  in   Itie 

House" CoKHlry  Patmtre 38^ 

A  Health Bdaard  Coaie  Pinkney 387 

Our  Sister Horatio  NtlioK  Pmnat ......  3S9 

FromUfc Brian  Booktr 390 

Tlie  Rose  of  the  Woiid Wiiliam  BuUit  Veati 390 

Dawn  of  Womanhood. Harold  if mra. j»i 

The  Shejiiierdeas Alict  UtyntB 393 

A  Portrait Brian  Htokrr 3*3 

The  Wife Tkeodosia  Garriion 394 

"Trusty,  Dusky,  Vivid,  True" Robert  Louis  A/nmtwi 3M 

The  Shrine Digby  Machearlk  Dolbm, , . .  355 

The  Voice Norman  Gale 355 

Mother Theresa  Heibum 3«6 

Ad  Matrem Julian  Fane 396 

C.  L.  M Jokn  Masefield 397 


Steppng  Westward WUiiam  Wordsvmrtk 358 

A  Farewcl]  to  Arms George  Peelt 399 

The  World Frands  Bacan 399 

"When  That  I  Was  and  a  Little  Tiny 

Boy  " Wiiliam  Shakespeare 40a 

Of  the  Last  Ver»s  in  the  Book Edmund  Waller 401 

A  Lament  .   Ckidimk  Titkkornt 401 

To-morrow John  CMina 401 

Late  Wisdom George  Craibc 403 

Youth  and  Ase. Samiel  Taylor  Coleridge 403 

The  Old  Man's  Comforts Robert  Somkey 405 

To  Age WiMcr  Savage  Laudtr 406 

Late  Leaves Waiter  Saaotn  Landor .   406 

Years Walltr  Savaf«  Lander 407 

The  River  of  Life Tkotnai  Camfidl 407 

"LongTimeaChild" Hartley  Coleridge 408 

The  World  1  am  Passing  Through . . .  Lydia  Maria  Child 408 

Terminus Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 41a 

Rabbi  Ben  Eira Robert  Browning 411 

Human  Life Aubrey  Themas  de  Vere. ....  416 

Young  and  Old .Charles  Kingsley. 417 

The  Isle  of  the  Long  Ago Benjamin  FranMin  Taylor. . .  417 

Growing  Old Mallkra  Arnold 418 

Past Jokn  Galsaortky 410 

Twilight A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 410 

Youth  and  Age George  Arnold 4*1 


,  Table  of  Contents 

Forty  Yeurs  On Sdaiard  EmesI  Boukh 411 

Dregi Erneit  Dawson 4" 

The  Paisdoi  of  Ttaw Austin  Dahsm 413 

AfK WStiam  Winler 414 

Onnia  Somnia Raiamiad  Marrioa  Walton. .  414 

The  Year'*  End TinMky  Cole 415 

An  Old  Man's  Song Sicliard  U  GaUitnne 4IS 

Sopss  of  Seven. Jtan  Intttoa 4>& 

The  Retreat flmrj  Vaufhan 434 

A  Supencription Danle  Gabrwl  Rossetti 4.15 

The  Child  in  the  Garden Henry  Van  Dykt 43S 

Cutles  in  the  Air Thomas  Lett  Ftacork 43; 

Sometimes Tkemas  S.Jencs.Jr 436 

The  Little  Ghosts Tkomas  S.Jonti.Jr 436 

My  Other  Me Crate  Denio  LUckfitU 436 

A  Shadow  Boat Aria  BaUs 437 

A  Lad  That  k  Gone .' Soberl  Louis  Slertnsm . . ._...  438 

Catcasaonne Jekn  R.  Thompson 438 

Childhood John  Banisif  Tabb 440 

The  Wastrel Riginald  Wri[il  Kaufman.. .  440 

TroiaFuit RefmaU  Wiighl  KauSman.. .  441 

Temple  Garlands A.  Mary  F,  Robinson 441 

Tinte  Lone  PaM Percy  Bysshe  SluUey 44' 

"I  Remember.  I  Remember" Thomas  Hood 443 

My  Lost  Youth Henry  Wadswrlk  Lengfeilou.  444 

'•Voice  of  the  Western  Wind" Edmund  Clarence  Sledman .. .  446 

"Langsyne,  When  Life  Waa  Bonnie". /tJuonJrr  Andersen 447 

The  Shoogy-Sboo Winlhrop  Fackard 447 

Ballon VMa  Tayior 448 

The  Road  of  Remembrance Licetle  Wooduorlh  Rase 44g 

The  Triompb  of  Forgotten  Things...  £:<fj(jljf.  Thomas 449 

In  theTvili^ht James  Russeli  Laueli 450 

An  Immorality , . ,  .Eva  Found 451 

Three  Seasons Christina  Giorgma  RosselU. . .  452 

The  (Hd  Familial  Facet Charla  Lamb 453 

The  Ugfat  of  Other  Dayi Thomas  Moort 4S4 

"Teats,  Idle  Tears" Alfred  Tennyson 454 

The  Pet  Name Bimbelh  BarreU  Browniai.. .  4SS 

Threescore  and  Ten Ritkard  Henry  Sloddard 457 

Bain  on  tbe  Roof .Coales  Kinney 458 

te  by  the  Hearth George  Arnold 46a 

..._  Old  Man  Dreams driver  Wendell  Holmes 461 

_'he  Garret William  Makepeoa  Ttuikeray  463 

Auld  Lang  Syne Robert  Burm 464 

Roci  Me  to  Sleep Bisabelk  Akers 46S 

Tbe  Bucket Samuel  Woodivorlh 466 

The  Grape- Vina  Swing WUIiam  Gilmore  Simms 467 

The  Old  Swimmia'-Hole James  Wkileomb  Riley 468 

Forty  Vests  Ago .Francis  Hmlon 46g 

Ben  Bolt Thomas  Dvnn  Entfisk. 470 

"BteaJt,  Break,  Break" Alfred  Tennyson 474 



Table  of  Contents 


Ems fttfp*  Waldo  Emtrmi. ^74 


"Now  What  is  Love" WaUet  RaUitk tlS 

Wooing  Song,  "i-ovc  ia  the  biouom 

where  tbere  IjIows" Giles  FUftktr 476 

Rosalind's  Miidrigal,   *'Lo^T  in  my 

bosom" rAoBioj  Ledst 477 

Song,    "Love   is   a    sickness   full    of 

woes" Samud  Danitl 47S 

Love's  Perjuries Wiilittm  Slaktspeare 470 

Venus'  Runaway Ben  Jmim 47g 

What  is  Love Jt»n  FUlektr 481 

Love's  Emblems Jekii  Flclcher 481 

The  Power  of  Love Joht  FteUktr ■  48J 

Advice  to  a  Lover Unknoam jgj 

Love's  Horoscope. : Ricliatd  Crashaio 484 

"Ah,  bow  Sweet  it  is  lo  Ixive" Jeim  Dryien 48s 

Song,  "Love  slill  has  aimclhingof  the 

sea" Ckarlei  Sedley. 486 

The  Vine James  Thomsm 4851 

Song,  "Fain  would  I   change  tliat 

note" VnkHovn 487 

Cupid  Stung Thamas  Uaart 488 

Curnd  Drowned.,. Leigh  Himl 48S 

Song,  "Oh!  say  liot  woman's  heart  is 

bought" r*MWM  /.ow  FrOfBi  t 4Sg 

"InlhcDaysotOM" Thomas  Lttr  Prnmk   48g 

Song, '■Howdeiieiou9isthewinning"r*™iajC'aiiipfc« 400 

■    Stanias,  "Could  love  for  cicr  " Grorfie  Gordon  Bjton 4q[ 

"They  Speali  o'  Wiles" William  Thorn 40J 

"Love  will  Find  Out  (Tic  Wny" I'nknoiiii 404 

A  Woman's  Shortdiming^ FJisaMh  Barrell  BroimiHg. .  405 

"LovehuthaLanjni.-ige".  .  .       llflm  Sdina  Skrrldan 40(1 

Song,  "O.  let  the  solid  ground" Alfred  Teiuyson. 407 

Amaturus William  JokHson-Cory 407 

The  Surface  and  the  Dcpllis Lmiis  Murtis 400 

A  Ballad  of  I>reaml,ind AIk">ioh  Charles  Sidnhunu .  40Q 

Endymion Henry  H'admarlh  Lonsfellolo  500 

Fate Susan  Marr  Spaldint 501 

"Give  bH  to  Love" Rj/A*  Waldo  EmsrsaH 501 

"O,  Love  is  not  a  Summer  Mood"..  Wr*oKlH'o/soiiGiW(r S04 

"When  will  Loi'eCoinc" Paktitkam  Beally 504 

"Awake,  My  Heart" kotfri  Bridges sos 

The  Secret Graree  Kdv'arJ  Woodbtrry.. .  505 

The  Rose  of  Slars George  Edvard  Woodifrry.. .  506  ' 

Sons  of  Ems  from  ".^ffathon" Gfome  Edtford  Woadbttry...  507 

Love  is  Strong Richard  Burlon S07 

"  Loveoncewaslike  an  April  Dawn".  Ro*rr(  i'tUfrwaoi  Jeknsan. .  508 

—The  Garden  of  Shadow Ernnl  Do-jsor, 508 

TTie  Call Reginald  Wrigkl  Kaifffman. .  500 

The  Highway Louise  Driiioll 509 

Song,  "Take  it,  love" ..Richard  UGollieme 510 

"Never  Give  all  the  Heart"     William  BulUr  Veals 511 

Song.  "I  tame  to  (he  door  of  the  house 

of  love" Alfred  Nayes ...  5" 


Table  of  Contenta 

"Child,  ChOd" S«fd  Teasd^ Sii 

Wisdum Ford  Madet  llurgrr s  1 1 

Epauguc  f Tom  "EaAAeaaai  Love" .  .LajcdU$  Aherceombit sij. 

Ob  Hampslsul  Heath W itfrid  Wilsm  Gibivn i>6 

Once  on  a  Time Kendall  Banning S17 

FiRt    Hong    from    "Astrophd    and 

Sella" Philip  Sidney 51B 

Silvia WiUiam  Skakespnan jig 

Cupid  andCampaspo Jahn  Lyly jio 

Apollo's  Song  from  "MidaK" JbIhi  Lyly SJO 

"Fair  is  my  Love  far  April't  in  her 

Face" Snbal  Crane Sio 

Samcla Robert  Crttnt 511 

Dametus'  Song  of  His  Uiapheniu.  . .  .Htnry  CoastiMe jit 

MaHrigal.  "My  Love  In  her  attire 

doth  show  Mt  wit" Unhaan 579 

Chlorisin  the  Snow Unkrumm SJj 

"There  is  a  Lady  Sweet  and  KiTUl"..(/Hibi0i«i Sij 

Chcny-Ripe Tkonas  Canaan 514 

Arnanllb, Thomas  Campion 514 

Elizabeth  of  Bohemia'. Henry  Wtllm JJS 

Her  Triumph BtK  JoHstn 526 

Of  Phlllis Wmiam  Drummond s'J 

A  Wdcome WiUiam  Brmme s^T 

The  Complete  Lover WUUam  Braame siS 

Rubies  and  Pearls Robert  Utrrick Sjg 

Upon  J utta's  Clothes Robert  Herriik jj9 

'To  Cyntlua  on  Concealment  of  her 

Beauty FnoKts  Kyiiaslim jig 

Sontt,  "Ask  Die  no  more  where  Jove 

botows" Thomas  Careir jjo 

A  Devout  Lover Tkonai  Ranielpk jji 

On  a  GLidle FJmund  WaiUr 5  ji 

Castara WUUam  HiMnilan S3i 

To  AmaiKntba  that  She  would  Dis- 

hevd  berRair Richard  Lvcdaa Sj3 

ChloeDiviM Thomas  D'Urjey Sjj 

My  Peggy Atian  Samiay. Sj4 

Song,    O  mdditr  than  the  cherry    .  .John  Cay 5jS 

"Tell  me.  my  Heart,  if  this  be  Love"  .Giergi  LylOelon S.IS 

The  Fair  Thief CkoHes  Wyndham 536 

Amoret Uaik  AhetuUi Sj7 

Song,  "The  shape  alone  let  others 

priie" Uark  Akenside. S37 

Kate  of  Abradecn John  Cunnintkam 538 

Sane,  "Who  has  nibbed  the  ocean 

cave" Johm  Shav jjd 

CUoe Robert  Bums 540 

"0  Mally's  Meek,  Mslly's  Sweel ". . .  Robert  Bums S4i 

The  Lover's  Cboica   Thomas  BedinsfieU 541 

Rondeau  RedoubK John  Payne S41 

"My  Love  She's  but  ■  Lamia  yet"... yjiMitfow.  . S4j 

J«E^,  the  Flower  o' Dunblane RabrrI  Tannahiil J44 

Margaret  and  Datm Thomas  Campbrll 144 

r^wonet's  Canzonet EnittlRhys 545 

SUnios  for  Music,  "There  be  none  of 

Beauty's  dau^rters", George  CarJan  Byron 14A 

"Flowers  I  would  Bring" Aubrey  Tkamai  de  Ven 546 

"It  JB  DOt  Beauty  1  Draiand" George  Darley 547 

p-hy  Google 

Table  of  Contents 

view" tlarltey  CileriJt' 548 

Song,  "A  violet  in  her  lovely  htit" .  .Charki  Sitain 548 

Eileen  Aroon Gerald  Griffin 549 

Annie  Laurie I/hiIhoibii 550 

To  Helen Ediar  AUan  Pee 551 

"A  Voice  by  the  Cedar  Tree" Alfred  TennyioH ssi 

Song,  "Nay,  but  you,  who  do  Dot  love 

her" Roterl  Bmrnting 553 

Tbe  Henchman Join,  Gretn'ea/  WkillUr SSJ 

Lovely  Mary  Donnelly William  AlUmliam jm 

Love  in  the  Valley Cteige  tferedUM 156 

Marian Ceargt  Meredith s6j 

Praise  oF  My  Lady IVilUam  Morris 562 

Madonna  Mia Algemm  CkarUs  Suinbume.  56s 

"Meet  wc  no  Angels,  PanMe" Thamas  Aihe sbj 

To  Daphne Waller  Beianl s68 

"Giriof  IbeRedMoulh" UarHn  MacDermoa. iiS 

The  Daughter  of  McndoM Mirabeav  Bmtparli  Lamar.  i6g 

"U  ShtbemideolWhiteiLrvl  Red".. Iferberl  F.Honu sTo 

The  Lover's  Song Edwird  Raitiand  Sill 571 

"When  Firstl  Saw  Her" George  Edv>ari  Wtadbtriy. . .  571 

My  April  Udy Uenry  Van  Dyke sji 

The  Milkmaid Austin  Dak'i» srj 

Song,  "This  peach  is  pink  with  such  a 

pink" Norman  Gale 574 

In  February Henry  Simpion S74 

"Love.  I  Marvd  What  Vou  Are". . . .  Trumladl  Slicknry S7S 

Ballade  o[  My  Lady'a  Beauty Joyce  KUmer 575 

Ursula. R^erl  Underwood  JakHMH. .  576 

Villanclleof  His  Lady's  Treasures, ,  .EmtsI  Dowiok 576 

Swig,  "l^ve,  by  thai  loosened  hair".B(ijjCiu-Btoii 477 

Song,  "O,  like  a  queen's  her  happy 

tread" WHIiam  Watson J77 

Any  I«ver,  Any  Lass Rickard  Uiddlelan 578 

Songs  Ascending Wilier  Byiuur IJ9 

Song,  "'Oh!  Love,'  (hey  said,  'is  King 

o[  Kings'" Raperl  Broi^e 580 

Song,  "How  do  I  love  you" Inne  Rulkrrford  UeLead. . .  s8o 

To  ...  .  In  Church .AlanSeefcr s8i 

After  Two  Years Rickard  Aldinglon 581 

Praise Seumas  O'SuUinm s8» 


"Forget  not  Yet" TkomasWyall 583 

Fawnia Robert  Greene s&S 

The  Passionate  Shepherd  to  His  Love  .Cirtiio^W  Uaritm 584 

The  Nymph's  Reply  to  the  Passionate 

Shepheid WaHtr  Raieigk jBj 

"Wrong  not,  Sweet  Empress  of  My 

Heart" '. Waller  Ralfitk s86 

To  His  Coy  Love Uidael  Draylon 586 

Her  Sacred  Bower Thomas  Campion 387 

To  Lesbia Tkamat  Campion 588 

•■  Love  me  or  Not " Tkomas  Campion 580 

"There  is  None,  O  None  but  You  " . .  Thomas  Campion 589 

Of  Corinna's  Singing    Tkomas  Camion sgo 

*'WeremyHeartassomeMen'sare".r*amaiCaiii^™ 300 

"Rind  are  her  Answers". Tkomas  Campieit soi 

ToCdia BeHJonsmt JQI 


Table  of  Contents  xxxiii 

ScmE,  "O,  do  not  wanton  with  those 

eyes" Bm  fansan J5i 

Sans,  "Go  and  catch  a  falling  slat".  .Joka  Doant 591 

Tbe  Message John  Doani 593 

Song,  "Ladies,  though  to  your  con- 

qMring  eyes" Gtargt  Ethocie 594 

To  a  Lady  Asking  Him  how  Long  He 

would  Love  Her. Cew|c  Elhcrexe 594 

To-tnone Robrrl  BarUk S05 

To  Anthea.  wbo  may  Command  him 

Anything Robert  11  ttrkk 595 

Tbe  Bracelcl:  To  Julia Saberl  Ilerriii 596 

To  the  Western  Wind Ftbot  Heirkk 596 

To  my  Inconirtant  Mistress riomoi  Carcnr 597 

Peisuaaiuns  to  Enjoy Tkfmas  Carea 597 

Mpiiocrity  in  Love  Rejected TKomas  Carea jgS 

The  Message Tkemas  Heyaeod SoS 

"How  Can  Ihc  Heart  torRct  Ilcr" Francis  Davison 599 

ToRo^esintheBosomotCaslara William  Hainnffon 600 

To  Flavia Edmund  Waller 600 

"Lo%-enot  Me  (ot  Comely  Grace  ". . .  .Utiltmrjvt 601 

"When.    Dearest.    I    but   Thlnfc    of 

Thee" Jalm  Suctliae 601 

A  Doubt  of  Martyrdom Join  SiKlding 6oi 

ToChloe William  Cartarichl 603 

"I'll  Never  Love  Thee  More".. James  GrnAmn,  .■. 604 

To  Ahhca.  Iron  Prison Richard  Levdace 605 

Why  I  Love  Her Alexamler  Bromc 606 

To  his  Coy  Mistress Andrea  tfartell 607 

A  Depo^tioQ  from  Beauty .Tkamas  Stanley 608 

"Love  in  Ihy  Youth,  Fair  Maid".. .  .C/ataoim 6og 

To  CeDa Charles  CoUm 609 

ToCdui Ckaries  Stdlty 6(0 

A  Song,  "My   dear  mistress  has  a 

hiarl    Jthn  Wilmot 610 

Love  and  Life .Jokn  Wilmet 611 

Constancy JbIm  Wilmol 611 

Song,  "Too  late,  alas,  J  must  con- 
las" JoknWibnut 611 

Song.  "Come,   Celia,  let's  agree  at 

last" /o*B  Shield 6ij 

Tie  Enchantment Thomas  Otaay 613 

Sonjt,  "Only  tell  her  that  I  love" John  Cutis fiij 

"False  though  She  be" William  Conereve 613 

To  Sihia Anni  Finch 614 

"Why.  Lovely  Chatraer" Vnknewn 614 

Against  Indifference Charles  Webbe 615 

A  Song  to  Amorcl Henry  Vaa(han 61$ 

Tbe  Lass  of  Richmond  Hill Jama  Upton 616 

Song,  "Let  my  voice  ring  out  and 

over  the  earth" James  Thomson 616 

Gifts James  Thomson 617 

Amynu Gilterl  Elliot 617 

"O  Nancy!  wilt  Tbougo  with  Mc"...r*omajPo-cy 618 

Cavalier's  Song Robert  C-HnntHghame^lSraham  6ro 

"My  Heart  ia  a  Lute" .,  ,-J Anne  Barnard 6jo 

Soni;,  "Had  I  a  heart  for  falsehood 

framed" Richard  Brinsiry  Sheridan . .  610 

Meeting George  Crabbe 6« 

"0  Were  my  £»ve  yon  Lilac  Fair". . ,  Robert  Bums 61  i 

"Bonnie  Wee  Thing" Robert  Bums 6ii 

Itow^hncr Waller  SaTage  Landtr 612 


Table  of  Contents 


]g  Charms" Tkomas  Moort 614 

The  Nun Ltigh  Runt ,  614 

Only  of  Thee  and  Me Louis  Unlcrmeyer 6:5 

To Percy  Bysske  Skdlry fiij 

From  the  Arabic Percy  Bysshe  SktlUy 6afl 

The  Wandering  Knight's  Sone John  Gibsm  Lotkkarl 0j6 

Song,  "Love's  on  the  highroail " Dana  Burnett S17 

The  Secret  Love A.  E 617 

The  Flower  of  Beauty Grorge  Barley 6i8 

My  Share  of  the  World Alia  Furlong 6ig 

Song,  "A  lake  and  3,  (airy  boat". .  ..Thanuu  Hood 6jo 

"Smile  and  Never  Heed  Me" Ckarlei  Swain 6jo 

Are  They  not  all  Ministering  Spirits.  .Roberl  Slcphm  Boater 631 

Maiden  Eyes. Gerald  Griffin 6ji 

Hallowed  Places Alice  Freeman  Palmer 631 

The  Lady's  "Yes" Eliiahelk  Barrtll  Brnvnint . .  6ji 

Song,  "It  is  the  miller's  daughter  ".../IVrfrfrmnyiOB 633 

Lilian Alfred  Tennyson 634 

BugleSong,  from  "The  Princess" Alfred  Tennyson fijj 

Ronsard  to  His  Mistress William  Makepeace  Thack- 
eray   63s 

"When  You  are  Old" WiBiam  BulUr  Veals 6jfl 

Song,  "You'll  love  me  yet,  and  I  can 

larry" , Soberl  Bromiing 637 

Love  in  a  Lite Robert  Brmcnint 637 

Life  in  a  Love Roberl  Broaning 638 

The  Welcome Thomas  Osborni  Davis 638 

Urania Mallicni  Arnold 6n) 

Three  Shadows Danle  Gabrid  Rosielli 640 

Since  we  Parted Ed-iMri  Roberl  Bulwer  Lytloii  641 

A  Match Algertwn  Charles  Smnburnt.  641 

A  Ballad  of  Life Algernon  Charles  S'leinburne .  641 

A  Leave-Taking Algernon  Charles  Smnbume .  64s 

A  Lyric Algernon  Charles  Swiabume .  646 

Maureen John  Toihunler 647 

A  Love  Symphony Arthur  O'Shaughntssy 647 

Loveon  the  Mountain Thomas  Boyd 648 

Kate  Temple's  Song Mortimer  Collins 640 

My  Queen fMinm'B 641) 

"Darting,  Tell  me  Yes" John  Godfrey  Saxe 650 

"DoIIxweThce" John  Coifrey  Saxe ■  tsi 

"O  World,  be  Nobler" Laurtna  Binyan 651 

"In  the  Dark,  in  the  Dew" Mary  Nnemarck  Prescoll . . .  6s« 

Nanny Francis  Davis 6sj 

Al^ifle Henry  Timrod 654 

Romance Robert  Louis  Sleeenson 654 

"Or  Ever  the  Knightly  Years  were 

Gone" WHliam  Ernest  Henley fijj 

RusinUrbc Clement  Scoll 6s6 

My  Road diver  Opdyke 657 

A  White  Rose John  Boyle  O'Reilly 657 

"Some  Day  o(  Days" Nora  Perry 658 

The  Telephone Roberl  FrosI 658 

Where  Love  is Amelia  J osethint  Burr 6sfl 

That  Day  You  Came Liielle  Woodworik  lUese 660 

Amantium  Irs Emetl  Doason 660 

In  a  Rose  Garden John  Bennett 661 

"God  Bless  Vou,  Dear,  To-day" John  Benntlt 661 

To-day Benjamin  R.  C.  Lira 66j 

To  Arcady Charles  Button  Going 66^ 

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Table  of  Contents 

Wild  Wisba SAd  H.  BrwUl 664 

"Beciiue  of  You" So^Aut  JJnxin  BenJty 665 

Thea Rose  Tory  Coakt 666 

The  Missive Edmund  Gosie 666 

Plymouth  Uariwr Mrs.  EnusI  Rad/ard 667 

Tin  Serf's  Secret Wiaiam  Vautln  Uoody 667 

"O,  Ineipresaible  as  Sweet". Gtmgt  Edaaid  Waedbarj...  66S 

TbeCydamcD Aria  Balet 66S 

T%e  W'est-Couatw  Lovet Alice  Brmm 660 

"Be  Ye  in  Love  wilh  April-Tide" CliiHea  SaMard 670 

Vnity Alfred  Neya 670 

The  Queen WUIiam  WiiHer 671 

A  Lover's  Envy Henry  Van  Dyte 6jj 

SUi  Song Robert  Uadtrwoed  JolmsBn. .  671 

"  My  Heart  Shall  be  Tby  Guden  "...AtUe  UeyneU 67J 

At  Night Alice  Ueyudl 674 

Saofi.  "SorKissoold" Ilermeim  Hageiarn 674 

"AD  Last  Night" LasceOei  AbercnnMe 674 

The  Ijst  Word Prideric  LaureKCt  Knmalei. .  67s 

"Heart  of  my  Heart" Uiikiutm 676 

My  Laddie Am^ie  Riva 676 

The  Shaded  Pool NarmanGiiU 677 

Good-«right 5.  Weir  UUckdl 679 

The  Jlystic Wilier  Bynner 680 

"I  Am  the  Wind" Z<m>  Akins 680 

"t  Love  my  Lite,  But  not  Too  Well" .  Hurrirt  Mmroc 681 

"This  ii  my  Love  lor  You" Grace  Failmi  Nerlm 6B1 


Lips  and  Eyes Tkonuu  MidiUlait 681 

ThcKiK BenJonson 683 

"Take,  O  Take  Those  Lips  Away  "../oibif/((e*ff 683 

A  Strfeo  Kiss George  WUker 68j 

Soog,  "My  Love  bound  me  with  a 

kits" Unknmut 684 

ToElectra Robert  Eerrich 6S4 

"Cone,  Chkie,  and  Give  Me  Sweet 

Kincs" duties  Hanbury  IVilliatm . .  68$ 

A  Riddle WiUiam  Cmeper 08s 

To  a  Kias John  Wolail 686 

Song.  "Often  I  have  heard  it  said  "..  If u/ier  Sowge  Z^ndor 686 

The  First  Kis  o(  Love George  Gariaii  Byrm 686 

"Jenny  Kissed  Me" leigk  Hum 687 

"I  FearTby  Kisses,  Gentle  Maiden". /"ewy  Byssbe  Skdlrj 688 

Love's  Philosophy Percy  Bysske  SkOey 688 

Song,  "The  moth's  kiss,  first" Reberl  Braaning 688 

Snnimum  Bonum Robert  BroicniHg 689 

TtK  Fust  Kiss Thadert  Wmis-DuHlM tig 

To  My  Love Jokn  God/rty  Sore 690 

To  Lesbia John  Godfrey  SoM 6go 

Make  Believe Alice  Cory 6111 

Kissing's  No  Sin UHimrwii 601 

To  Anne WUIium  MaxueO 691 

Soot,  "There  is  many  a  love  in  the 

land,  my  love" Jtaauiii  Miller 603 

Phylfit  and  Corydon Arliur  CaUan 69J 



Table  of  Contents 

Matin  Song Nalkanirt  Fidd 604 

The  Night-Pii™;  To  Julia Robert  Hcrrick 69s 

MorainR William  D'Aimanl bgs 

Malin  Son^ ,.._.  .^ ...,,.. .  .TAoaas  llryarood.  - ,  .  - 696 

The  Rose Richard  Lmdau epO 

Song,  "Ste.  sec,  she  wakes!    SaUna 

wakes" WiUiam  Cttigme 697 

Mary  Morisoii Robert  Burns 697 

Wake,  Laily Jeanna  BaiUie teS 

The  Sleeping  Beauty HaawH  Roters 699 

"The  YoanR  May  Moiiii" Thomas  Moore 699 

"Row  GeciUy  Here" Thomas  Moore 700 

Morning  Kereoade Madison  Cavxia 700 

Serenade Aubrty  Tionias  De  Vtrt 701 

Lines  to  an  Indian  Air Ftrcy  Bysskc  Shdtty 701 

Good-N'iRht Ftrcy  Byssiu  ShtiUy 70J 

Serenade George  Darltj joj 

Serenade Thomas  Hood 704 

Serenade EdiMrd  Coale  Pinbiry 704 

Serenade Ihnry  Timrad. 70s 

Serenade Henry  Wadsmorlh  LBngfcUaa  705 

"Come  into  the  Carrfeii,  Mauil".  . .  .Aljrrd  Tennyson 70b 

At  Her  Window ..Frrderiik  Lorki-r-LampiOH. . .  708 

Bctlouin  Sonfi Bayard  Ta^or 709 

Night  and  Love Kda-ard  George  EarU  Bt^vtr- 

Lyllon 7IO 

Nocturne r*oiBit!  Bailty  Atdtich 711 

Palabraa  Cariliosas Thomas  BaOry  A  tdriik 711 

Serenade (hear  Wilde 713 

The  Litllc  Red  Urk AUrtd  Pcrtnal  Grates 713 

Serenade Richard  iUddklen 714 


A  Lover's  Lulbljy - G-orer  Gascoisnc 

Phillirfa  and  (.'orydon Mrholas  fi'clon 

"Crabbed  \rv  and  Voutli" William  ShaitsPfare 

"It  Was  a  Lover  and  Ili^  Lass'' lliW^im  Shakespeare. . . . 

"I  Loved  ■  Lass" (rVuar  fVilhir 

To  Chlofis Charles  Scdiey 

SonjT,  "The  merchant,  to  sciurc  liis 

Ircaaure" .VaUheic  Friar 

Pious  Selinda William  Congme 

Fair  Hebe Join  Wett 

A  Maiden's  Ideal  d(  a  Itjisbiiiul Henry  Carey 

"Phillada  Flouts  Me" t'liiiwiiii 

"When  Molly  Sniilcs". I'ninaa'n 

Contentions Vninm-n 

"  1  Asked  My  Fair,  One  Hapiiy  Day  "  .VniBBrf  rojrfw  (Vmd*:? . 

Tbc  Exchange Samii^  Taylor  Coleridge. 

"Comin'Tlirotigh  liie  Rye" Robert  Btirnt 

"Crecn  Grow  [he  Rashes,  O" Rnberl  Burns 

Ilefianec Waller  Sarase  I^ndor . . . 

0(  Clementina WaUer  .Sarage  Laudor . . . 

"The  TlToel'i-e  Lost  ill  \Vouini:"...7'*oBKu«ooi'e 

Dear  Fanny Thomas  U tore 

A  Certain  Voting  Lady Wasiinnton  Imag 

"Where  Be  Vou  (ioiiiR,  Vcm  Dei-on 

Moid" John  Reals 

Love  in  a  Collase .Valhaniel  Parker  Willis.  . 

Song  of  tlte  Milkmaid  from    'Queen 

lUaiy" il/red  Tennyson. ...... 

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Table  of  Contents 

■Wouldn't  You  Lite  to  Know" John  Godfrey  Saxt 734 

"Sng  HoBh-ho" Ciarlci  Kmeslty 73J 

The  Golden  Fish Gterie  Arnold 738 

TbeCourtin' Jamis  Russell  Lowrtl 736 

L'Ebu  Donnante Thomas  Bailey  AUrich. ....  730 

A  PrJnuDEC  Dame Clttson  While 740 

It.  . , James  JeMfey  Roche 740 

#    Don't Jamis  Jefrey  RiKhe 741 

An  Irish  Love-Song Robetl  Undencvod  Johnson. ,  741 

GrooinsOld Waller  Leaned 741 

Time's  Revenge Waller  Learned 743 

In  Explanation Waller  Learned. 743 

Omnia  Vindt Alfred  Cochrane 744 

.\  Pastoral Norman  Gate 744 

A  Rose ArlB  Baits 74S 

"Wooed  and  Married  and  A'". . , . .  .Aleiander  Ross 746 

"Owiethe  Moor  Amnns  the  Heather 'Vmb  GImcr 747 

Marriage  and  the  Care  O't Robert  Lechore 748 

The  Women  Folk James  Hogg 74g 

"Ifive  is  Lite  a  Diarfness" James  Ilocs 750 

"Behave  Voursel'  before  Folk" Aliianier  Rodger 7Si 

Rory  CM  ore;  or,  Good  Omens Sarnii^  Loser 753 

A^k  and  Have Samuel  Later 7S4 

Killy  of  Coleraine Charles  Dawsm  Skaidy. 7ss 

The  Plairtic C*or/«  StWry 7SS 

Kilty  Neil John  Francis  Waller 756 

"The  Duie'si' this  Bonnet  O' Mine". Bfc™  ICaaj* 757 

TheOuld  Plaid  Shawl Francis  A,  Fahy 738 

Little  Mary  Casady Francis  A.  Fahy. 7S0 

The  Road Patrick  R.  Chalmers 760 

Tirickenhain  Ferry Thio^le  ilarsials 761 


SoiiK,  "I  prithee  send  me  lack  ray 

heart" John  SacUing 763 

A  Billad  Upon  a  Weddins John  Suckling 763 

To  Chloe  Jealous Mallhrvi  Prior 766 

Jack  and  Joan Thamas  Campiim 767 

Phillii  »nd  Corydon Richard  Creene 768 

Sally  in  Our  Alley Ilnry  Carey 7^9 

The  Country  Wefldini I'ninovm 771 

"OMetry  may  IheMaidbc" John  Clerk 77* 

The  Lass  o'  Gowrie Carolina  Naime 773 

The  Constant   Swain  and   Virtuous 

Maid UnhurxH 774 

When  the  Kye  Comes  Hame James  tlogg 775 

The  Low-Backed  C^r Samuel  Lover 777 

The  Pretty  Girl  o(  Loch  Dan. Samuel  Ferguson 779 

Muckle-Mouth  Meg Robert  Br/ruming 781 

Mudilc-Moii'd  Meg James  Ballanliiie 781 

Clcnlogie.  , I'Hknaim 783 

Lochinvar Waller  Seoll 784.- 

Jock  of  Hazeldean Waller  Scot! 786 

Candor Ilenry  Cuyltr  Biainer 7B7 

"Do  you  Remember" Thomas  Hayncs  Bayly 7S8 

Because Fdioard  Fitzgerald 788 

Love  and  Age Thomas  Love  Peacock 790 

To  Helen Winlhrop  Uackworlli  Frard .  7111 

At  the  Churd)  Gate William  Makepeace  Tkack- 

n  New  Hampshire James  Thomas  Fields 793 

p:hy  Google 

Table  of  Contents 

Touiouni  Amoui Edmund  Ciaraict  SledmaH . . 

The  Doorstep Edmund  ClartKce  Siedmaa . . 

The  While  Yhf Jalm  Hay 

A  Song  of  tbe  Four  Seasons AuilinDnbim 

The  Love- Knot Nora  Perry 

Riding  Down Nara  Perry 

'■FoTgettin'" MoiraO-Nem . 

"Across  the  Fkldtto  Anne" Rkhard  Burlim . 

Pamela  in  Town Eam    Mackay    BiUclmuM 

Cerlisset , 

Yes? Henry  CuyUr  BuHner 

■^  -The  Prime  of  Lile Waiter  Ltamed . 

Thoughts  on  the  CommaDdmenls. . .  .Georfe  Auguilui  Baier . 


"Sigh  no  More,  Ladies" WilUam  Skaiesptare 

A  Renunciation Edaard  Vcrc 

A  Songi   "Ve  haMJy  swiilni,  whose 

hearts  are  free" Georte  Etknige I 

To  His  Forsaken  Mistress Rabat  Aylim I 

To  *n  Inconstant Robert  Ayton 

Advice  lo  a  Girl Tlmmas  Campion i 

Song,  "FoHow  ft  diadaw,  it  still  flies 

you" t Ben  Jonstn l 

True  Beauty Francis  Beaumont 1 

The  IndiBerenl Francis  Btaument I 

The  Lover's  Resolution George  Wither l 

His  Further  Resolution Vnknmun L . 

Song,  "Shall  1  tell  you  whom  I  love  " .  (CtAHiin  Breane gi 

To  Dianeme Robot  Berrick Bi 

Ingraleful  Beauty  Threatened Thanua  Carea 

Disdain  Returned Tiomas  Carew 

"Love  Who  Win,  tor  nll^ve  None".  r*i.wojA-i«™e 

Valerius  on  Women Tkomas  Ueyimod 

Dispraise  of  Love,  and  Lovers'  Fol- 
lies   Francii  Damsori 

^,)The  Constant  Lover John  Suckling 

Song,  "Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond 

lover" Jokn  Suctling 8io 

Wishes  lo  His  Supposed  Mistress Richard  Crashaa Sio 

Song,    "Love   in    (antaslic    triumph 

sate" AfhraBrhn 814 

Les  Amours .Charles  Collon Sis 

Rivals William  Walsh 8a6 

"I    Laldy   Vowed,    but    Twas   in 

Haste". Jahn  fHdmixcn 816 

The  Touchstone Samuel  Bishop 8a6 

Air,  "I  ne'er  could  any  luster  see" Richard  Brimley  Shrridan...     837 

"I  Took  a  Hansom  oft  To-day li'iUiam  EmesI  Henley 837 

DaCapo Henry  Cuyler  Bunnir 8ag 

-^  C  Song  Against  Women Willard  Hunlinilon  Wrighl,.     8ig 

Song  of  Thyrsis Philip  Freneau. 8jo 

The  Test Waller  Satage  Lander 831 

"The  Fault  ii  not  Mine" Waller  Sacage  Landor 831 

The  Snake Thomas  Uoare 831 

'T*"When  I  Loved  You" Thomas  Moore 8ja 

A  Temple  10  Friendship Thomas  Moore 831 

The  Glove  and  the  Lions Leigh  Hunt 833 

.-.*   -To  Woman. George  Gordon  Byron.. 834 

Love's  Spite Aubrey  Thomas  de  Vere 834 

L«dy  Clara  Vere  de  Vere Alfred  Terutysan 835 


T»bl«  of  Contents 

The  Age  (rf  Wisdom WiUuiiii   Makepeace   Thaih- 

eray 838 

Andna  del  Sarto Robert  Brmatiiig Sjq 

Uyl-Bst  Duchess Robert  BmmiHg 846 

Adam,  Liltth.  and  Eve Jtaberl  Braimiit 848 

The  Lorf  Mistress Robert  Brmimiiit 848 

Friend  and  Lover Mary  Ainge  deVere 849 

Lost  Love Andrinp  Lang 840 

Vobiicuni  est  lope Tkmnas  Campim Sjo 

Fmr  Winds Sara  TeatdaU 8sa 

ToMiriwi Wa/nd  Scawen  Bluni 851 

Cnimwd Amy  Lasell 851 

Hebe Jamtt  Rttss^  Ltwdl. 8sj 

"Justine,  You  Love  tne  Not" Jo/m  Godfrey  Sate 833 

Snowdrop WiUiam  Welw/re  Slrry 854 

When  the  Sultan  Goes  to  Ispahan . . .  Thomas  Bailty  Aldrick 854 

Tic  Shadow  Dince Louve  Ckandltr  McuIIok.  ,.  S5G 

"Alon^  the  Field  as  weCamaby" Alfred  Edvmrd  Bmuman.. . .  856 

"Wboi  I  was  OnC'itDd-TwGDty  " , . .  .Alfred  Edward  Bousman. . ,  857 

"Grieve Not,  Ladies" Anna  Uempslead  Branch. . .  Ssj 

Suburb Harold  Uonre 855 

Tbe  Betrothed Rudyard  Kipling 860 


"ThcNigbt  has  a  Thousand  Eyes".  .Fraitcit  WiUiam  BourdiUoH ,  S6j 

"I  Saw  my  Lady  Weep" Unkamm 86j 

Love's  Young  Dream Thomoi  Uoare 864 

"Not  Oura  the  Vows" : Bernard  Barim 86s 

The  Grave  of  Love Thomas  Lne  Peacock,' 86s 

"We'll  ga  no  More  a  Roving" George  Gordon  Byron 866 

Song,  "SinK  the  old  song,  amid  (he 

sounds  dispenine" Aubrey  Thomas  de  Vert 866 

The  Question Percy  Bysshe  Skelley 867 

The  Wanderer Austin  Dobson 868 

Egyptian  Serenade George  William  Curtis 868 

The  Water  Lady Thoniat  Hood 86g 

"Tripfring  Down  the  Reid-paUi Charles  Swain 870 

LoveNot Caroline    EUtobeth    Sarah 

Norton B71 

"A  Place  in  Thy  Memory" Gerald  Gr^n 871 

Inclusons Eliiabelh  Barrett  Brovming. .  871 

Mariana Alfred  Tennysoii 873 

"Ask  Me  no  More" Alfred  Tennyson 875 

AWotnan'sLastWord. Robert  Brmming 876 

The  Last  Ride  Together Riiberl  Bnmming 877 

Voulhaod  Art Robert  Brmming 880 

Two  in  the  Campoena Robert  Bnnmtns 881 

One  Way  of  Love Robert  Brouming 884 

"NevertheTimeand  the  Place" Robert  Brvaning 88s 

Song,  "Oh!  that  we  two  were  May- 

iTie" Charles  Kingiley 88s 

For  He  Had  Great  Possessions Richard  tfiddlelon 8SG 

Windle-straws Edward  Dinnden 887 

te^e Thomas  Edaard  Broim 887 

CbeB-boaid Edmard  Raberl  BiJiver  LyUoti  883 

Amllaliens Edaard  Robert  Bulaer  LyUon  889 

Song,  "I  saw  the  day's  while  rap- 
lure" Charles  nimsoH  Towne 8gi 


Table  of  Contents 

The  Lonely  Road Kamelk  Rani 8^3 

Evensong Sidgrly  Tomact tin 

The  Nymph's  Song  to  Hylas WUliam  Uorrit gg4 

No  and  Yes THomoi  Aihe 80s 

Love  in  Dreams John  Addinglan  SytwnJi. . .  BoS 

"A  Little  While  I  fain  would  Linger 

Yet" Paul  namilum  Uayne. .....  SoS 

Song,  "I  made  another  garden,  yea ".^rlAttr  O'Skannlmtssy lji)6 

Song,  "Has  summer  come  wilhoul  the 

rose" Arthur  O'Shauaknasj 807 

After PMlip  Btwkt  MatsUm 8g8 

After  Summer Phiiip  Boarkr  Uarsloa 3oo 

Rococo Ahernojt  CkaiUs  Svmlninte  (kx> 

Rondel Algrmon  Chartes  S-jiinbunu  001 

The  Oblation Algttaon  Cliarlts  SwiKburiu  goj 

The  Song  of  the  Bower Danfc  Gatricl  Rosselli ooj 

Song,  "We  break   (he  gliis.s,   whose 

sacred  wine" Edipard  Coale  Pintnry ooj 

Maud  Muller .JohnCrceiilfaf  WhUtitr gos 

La  Grisctte OHver  WemlfU  Utimes v>9 

The  Dark  Man Nora  tlfpprr oio 

Eurydice Francii  WiUiam  BourdiUm.  gir 

A  Woman's  Thought Riciaid  IValsm  Giider 91 1 

Laua  Veneris Leuiie  Chandler  Meullan . . .  gij 

Adonais. Will  Kaiiace  Harney 014 

Face  to  Face Franta  Cachraiu, gis 

Ashore Laurencr  Hope gift 

KhrJBlna  and  His  Klute Laurrnie  Hope gi6 

Impenitentia  Ultima, Enutt  Doasoti gif 

Non   Sum  Qualis  Eram   Boiuc  sub 

Regno  Cynane Emal  Deasim 918 

Quid  non  SRetemiiR,  .AnuntcsP Emal  Dcaton gig 

"So  Sweet  Love  Seemed" Rabtri  Bridgts OK) 

An  Old  Tune Andrea  Lang 92a 

Refuge W^iiamWinUr 9JI 

Midsummer Eila  Whedcr  WUeex gji 

Ashesof  Roses Elaine  Goadale 933 

Sympathy AUhraCytes 923 

The  Look Sara  Trasdair 033 

"When  My  Beloved  Sleeping  Lies",  .Irau  Rulker/ard  McLtoi. . 

Love  and  Life Juiie  UaOilde 

Love's  Prisoner Mariana  Crisv 

Rosics. Afnei  I,  Hanraiaii 

At  the  Comedy Artkur  Stringer 

"Sometime  It  may  Be" Arthur  Cotlon 

"I  heard  a  Soldier" Herbert  Trench 

The  Last  Memory Arthur  Symendi. 

"Down  by  (he  Salley  Gardens " WiUiam  Butler  Vials 

Ashes  of  Life Edna  St.  Viatrnt  MiOay.. 

A  Farewell Alice  Brown 


Song,  "O  mis(re3s  mine,  where  are 

you  roaming" WiUiam  Shakespeare , 

"Go,  Lovely  Rose" Edmund  Wailtr 

To  (he  Rose:  A  Song Robert  Herrick 

Memory WUIiam  Brmenc 

To  I.ucasta,  Going  to  the  Wars Richard  Lovelace.. . .. 

To  Lucasta,  Going  beyond  the  Seas, . Richard  Latdact. 


Table  of  Contenta 

Song  to  a  Fair  Young  Lady,  Going 

CMit  of  the  Town  in  the  Spring Jokn  Drydtn M4 

Song,    "To   all   you    ladies   now  at 

land" Ckatles  SadniiU. BjS 

Song,  "In  vain  you  tell  jnjur  parting 

lover" Uallhew  Prior P37 

Bluk-Eyed  Snsan Joht  Cay 537 

IriJi  Molly  O Unknmm 

Song,   "At   ECtting   day  and   riang 

mom" AOan  Ramsay gfo 

Lodiaber  no  More,  , Attan  Ramsey 9,10 

Willie  and  HekB Bew  AtmlU wi 

AbiencK Richard  Jagn 04J 

"My  Mother  Bids  me  Bind  my  Hur"  Atmt  Ilimttr 94* 

"Blow  High!  BI0V  Low" Charles  Dibdin dji 

The  Siller  CrouQ SMsanna  Blamire 043 

"My  Nannie's  Aw«'" Robert  Bums 944 

"Ae  Fond  Kiss" Robcrl  Burns 545 

"The  Day  RetumB" Robert  Bums <)4S 

Hy  Bonnie  MiFy Robert  Bums IM6 

A  Red,  Red  Rose, Robot  Bums 946 

I  Love  My  Jean Robert  Bariu  and  John  Ham- 

illan 947 

The  Rover's  Adieu.  fnjm"Rokeby".R'ii*n- Serf/ 948 

"Loudoun's     Bonnie     Woods     and 

Bmes" Robert  Tainsahili 949 

"Fare  TheeWdl" Geargt  Cordon  Bymi 950 

"Maid  of  Athens.  Ere  We  Part" Georte  Gordon  Byron 951 

"When  We  Two  Parted" Gearge  Gordm  Bynm •>$* 

"Go,  Forget  Me" Charlts  Wolje 9Sj 

Last  Nrght Gtorgt  Darky <)S4 

Adieu rioK-u  Carlyte 954 

^nie  Morrison Wmiam  Motherwell 955 

Tbe  Sea-Uods Orrick  Johns 958 

Fairlnes. Thomas  Hood 959 

A  Valediction Eiisabtlh  Barrett  Brownittf . .  960 

Farewell John  Addinflon  Symends: ..  96a 

"I  Do  Not  Love  Thee" Caroline   Elizabeth   Sarah 

Norton 96» 

The  Patm-tree  and  the  Pine Richard  MmuUon  Uilnti. . .  96J 

"O  Swallow,  Swallow  Flying  South". ,^//™f  Tennyson 963 

The  Flower's  Name Robert  Browning 964 

To  Maj^uerite Statlkm  Arnold 966 

Scjnration IdaUhem  Arnold 966 

Longing Uallhew  Arnold 967 

Divided Jean  Ingdoa 96S 

My  Playmate Join  GttenleaJ  Whitlirr. . . .  971 

A  Farewell Cmiailry  Pslmtre 974 

Departure Coventry  Palmare 974 

A  Song  of  Parting B.C.  Complon  Matketait...  975 

Song,  "Fair  is  the  night,  and  (air  tbe 

day" WUliam  Morris 977 

At  Parting Aigenum  Chorlet  Swinburne.  978 

"I(  She  But  Knew" Arthur  O'Shaughneity 978 

Kalfaleen  Mavoumeen Louisa  Macartney  Cram'/ord ,  979 

Rohtn  Adair. Caroline  Kef  pd 979 

"If  You  Were  Here" Fhitip  Bourht  Marsion 981 

"Come  to  Me.  Dearest" Joseph  Brman 983 

Song,  "lis  said  that  absence  conquers 

love" Frederirt  WUliam  Thomas, .  983 

Parting Ceroid  iiassey 984 

Tbe  Parting  Hour OfiK  Custance 9S5 


Table  of  Contents 

ASonKof  Aulumn. KamtB  RtM 

The  GitI  I  Left  Bebind  Me Unimeim 

"When  We  are  Parted" Hamillm  AM 

Remember  ot  Forget" llamUlm  Aide. . . . 

Nancy  Dawson Herbert  P.  Hone. . . 

My  LilUe  Love Ciocfcj  B.  Hauiky. . 

For  Ever William  Caldwett  Kascoe. . . . 

Auf  Wiedereehen Jama  Kussell  Lauvli 

"Forever  and  a  Day" Tliomai  Bailey  AUrich 

Old  Gardens Arthur  Upson 

Ferty  Hinluey Laarente  Binym 

Wearyin'ferYou Frank  L.  Slantm 

TheLovcisof  Mardiaid Marjurie  L.C.  FittUiaU.... 

Song,  "She's  Kunewhere  in  the  »un- 

lieht  stmnK" Richard  Le  GaUiame 

Ttke  Lover  Thinks  of  His  Lady  in  the 

North ShaeiKuOSked...^ 

ChansoD  de  Roscmonde Richmi  Hircey 

Ad  Domnutam  Suam Ernest  Doipsbh 

Marian  Drury Btiii  Carman 

Love's  Rosary Alfred  Noyes 

When  She  Comes  Home .Jame}  WhUcami  Riley. 


Song.  "My  silks  and  line  array". . .  .WMiam  Blake 

Tbc  night  of  Uve. Percy  Bysske  ShiUy 

"Farewell!  If  ever  Fondest  Prayer". Ceor/e  Carian  Byren 

Porphyria's  Lover Reberl  Browning 

Modem  Beauty -Arthur  Synums 

La  Belle  Dame  Sana  Merci Jakn  Keats 

Tenului— TeiBS Joaquin  Uiller 

Enchainment Artkar  O'Shaug/meety 

Add  Robin  Gray Anne  Barnard 

Lost  Ligbt EJitabelh  Aiers 

A  Sigh Harriet  PrescotI  Spogerd. .  . . 

Hereafter Harriet  Ptescolt  Spoford,. .. 

Endymion Oscar  Wilde 

■~^"l*ve  is  a  Terrible  Thing" Grace  FaUaw  Nertm 

The  Ballad  of  the  An([d Thetdasia  Garrison 

••iMve  Came  Back  at  Fall  o'  Dew" . .  .Lisette  Woadaortk  Reese 

I  Shall  not  Care Sara  Teasdali 

Outgrown Julia  C.  R.  Dorr 

A  Tragedy Edith  NesUt 

Left  BeUnd Elitaielh  Aieri 

The  Forsaken  Merman Uatlhea  Arnold _ 

The  Portrait Edward  Robert  Bulv/er  Lyltan  n 

The  Ri%e  and  Thorn Paul  Hamiilan  Bayne 

To  Her — Unspoken Amdia  Josephine  Burr 

A  Light  Woman Robert  Brooming 

From  the  Turkish Georfe  Gordon  Byron 

A  Summer  WoiJng Louise  Chandler  it ouUon. . . 

Butt^ies John  Davidson 

Unseen  Si»rits Nalhanid  Porta  Willis 

"Grandmither,  Think  Not  I  Forget".  Witfo  Sibert  Cather 

Little  Wild  Baby Uartartt  Thomson  Janvier. . 

A  Cradle  Song Nicholas  Breton 

Lady  Anne  Bothwell's  Lament Unkninim 

A  Woman's  Love John  Hay 

A  Tragedy ThlophUe  ilaraals 

"Mother,      I      Cannot      Mind     My 
Wheel" WaUer  Savage  Landar 


Table  of  G>ntent9 


Airiy  Beacon Ckarla  Kh^day 

A  Sa  Child Blisi  Carmm 

From  iheHuborHill Cunat  KeUl 

Allan  Water UaUliew  Crtgory  Ltmi.  ■ 

Forsaken Vnbuiam 

BoonieDoon Seiert  Bum 

The  Two  Lovers Ritlnri  Btmty 

The  Vampire Rudyard  KipUng 

Agatha Al/rtd  Aniliti 

"A  Kose  WiU  Fade" Dora  Sigerson  Sierler . .. 

Affaire  d'Amour Uargarel  Ddand 

ACssiial  Song Sfflfcn  Nod 

The  Way  of  It Jehn  Vanct  Cheney 

"When    Lovely   Woman   Sloops   to 

FoUy".- aiTerGMsmilh 

Ftdk-Song LoMt!  Unltrmeycr 

A  Veiy  Ok)  Song WUHaM  Laird 

"She   Was   Young   and   Blithe    and 

Fait" narM  Monro 

The  Lasa  that  Died  o(  U)¥e. Rukaid  MidOelen 

The  Passkm- Flower Martaret  Fuller 

Norah ZaiAkins 

Of  Joan's  Youth Louise  Imogen  Cuinoy. . . 

There's  Wisdom  in  Women Rupert  Brooke,  .x 

Goethe  and  Frederika llatry  Sidnwkt 

The  Song  of  the  King's  MinBtrel Rickard  Middlelon 

Annie  Shore  and  Johnnie  Doon FalrickOrr 

Emmy.  -.--....- --,-.- Arthur Sym 

The  Ballad  of  CamdanTowD James  E 


Hrkn  of  Rirconnell Unhuimi 

WiHy  J>iowned  in  yarrow. Unhimwn 

Annan  Water Unktiam 

The  Lament  of  the  Border  Widow UnhiiBVm 

Aiqiilia's  Song  from  "The  Maid's 

Trajtedy" John  Fletcher 

A    Ballad.    "Twas    when    the    seas 

were  roarinj!" JohnGty 

TtK  Braes  of  Yarrow John  Logaa 

The  Churchyard  on  1  he  Sands LorddeTabUy 

IVMin-strd'sSong  from  "£Ua". .  .Thomas Chatlerloa 

Highland  Mary RiAert  Bunts 

To  Maiy  in  Heaven Reierl  Buna 

Lacy WiliiamWardsaorlh 

Proud  Maisie Walter  SeoU 

far«.   "Earl   March  looked  on   his 

dying  child" Thomas CamtAdl 

The  Maid's  Lament Waller  Savage  Landar 

"She  is  Far  from  the  Land" Thomas  Meore 

-At  the  Mid  Hour  <rf  Night" Thomas  Moore 

Od  a  Picture  by  I'oussin JoknAddintionSymoadi 

Threnody Rulh  Cuikrie  Harding 

SM«g  as  Death Hairy  C»}il<r  Bunaer ...... 

"I  Shall  not  Cry  Return" Ellen  M .  H .  Galtt 

'Oh!     Snatched  away  in   Beanty's 

Bkmn  " -  ■  - George  Gordon  Byron ....... 

To  Mary Charies  Wolfe 

Uy  Heart  and  I Elaatelh  Barrel!  Broaning.. 

K«Mtind's  ScicJI Eliiabtth  Barren  Broaming. . 

LtBwnt  of  the  Irish  Ejnigrant Beleit  Selma  Sheridan 


Table  of  Contents 

The  King  of  DeoDuA's  Ride CaroUntEiiiQlitthSarakNor- 

Tbe  Watcher James  Sitpkens. 1089 

Tbe  Three  Sisters Arthur  Daciion  Fide looo 

BoUsd May  Kendall 1090 

'■O  that  Twete  Possible" Alfred  Tmaysm 1093 

"Home  They  Brought  Her  Warrior 

Dead" Alfrid  Tennyson 1093 

Evelyn  Hope Reierl  Breimnig 1094 

Remembruice Emiiy  Brmit logs 

Song,  "The  linnet  in  the  rocky  dells". fiiHfyBnmM 1096 

Song  of  the  Old  lave Jtan  Ingeimv 1097 

Requiescat MaUhac  Arniii logS 

Too  Late Dmah  Maria  UulofkCrcit.  1090 

Four  Years Dinai  Uaria  Muioek  Craik.  lOQg 

Barbara Aieiandrr  Smith noo 

Soiig,"WhenIamdead,inrdeanst"Cjb'u(»KiCr<v;iRiiXdu(U(. .  1102 

Helen Sarak  Ckaiincty  Woalsey.. ..  iioi 

Love  and  Death Susa  Mulkoliand 1104 

To  One  in  Paradise Edgar  Allan  Pel uoj 

Annabel  Lee Edgar  Allan  Put iioj 

For  Annie Edgar  Allan  Pee 1107 

Telling  the  Bees John  Greenleaf  Wiiltitr. 1109 

A  Tryst Lvvise  Chandler  It ouUon. . ,  1111 

Love's  Resurrection  Day Ltuise  Chandler  Unidlon ...  1 1 1  j 

Heaven iiartha  Gilbert  Diehauau .. .  1112 

Jsnette's  Hiiir Charles  Graham  Halpine.. . .  1111 

The  Dying  Lover Richard  Binry  Stoddard 1114 

"When  IhcGrassShaU  Cover  Mc".., /bo  Cwittfi/* 1.14 

Gfve  Love  Today Ethel  Talbot 1115 

Until  Death ElitaUfk  Akers iu6 

Florence  Vane Philip  Fendieloa  Cooke 1117 

"If  Spirits  Walk" Sophie  JcoeU 1118 

Requiescut Oscar  IVUdt .mi* 

Lyric,  "You  would  have  understood 

me,  hod  you  wailed" Emtl  Dmton 1120 

Romance Andrea  Lang 11  n 

Good-Night Hester  A.  Benedict 11  Jt 

Requiescat Rosamund  Marriolt  IValsoa.  iiii 

The  Four  Winds Charles  Henry  LUders 1  iij 

The  Kind's  Ballad J eyte  Kilmer iiaj 

Heliotrope Harry  Thurston  P/ci 1124 

"LydiaisGonelbisMBny  a  Year", .  .Lisetle  Wood-worth  Rcete. ...  iij6 

After LiceUe  Woodsivrik  Rrese 11J7 

To  Diane Helen  Hoy  WhUney luS 

"Music  I  Heanl" Conrad  Aiken iiiq 

Her  Dwelling-place Ada  Foster  Murray iiig 

llie  Wife  from  Fairyland Richard  Le  Gallienne 1130 

In  the  Fall  o'  Year Thomas  S.  Jones.  Jr 1131 

The  Invisible  Bride Edwin  Markbam iiji 

Rain  on  a  Crave Thomas  Hardy 1133 

Patterns Amy  Loiseli 1134 

Dust RufierlBrootr 1137 

Ballad.  "The  roses  in  my  garden" Maurice  Baring 1138 

"TfaeLittleRoseisDust,My  Dear".Criii:''0as(irdC(«Uiii; ri39 



"My  True-love  Hath  my  HoM'- .  ..PkBip  Sidney irjt 

Song,  "O  sweet  delight" Themas  Campion ii^r 


Table  of  Contents 

The  Good-MoiTOW Jalm  Ddhiu 1I4J 

•■Tbere's  Gowd  in  the  Breast " Jama  Utu 1 141 

Tbe  Bctwai  Maid Alfred  ToHtyjoa 1143 

R«(uge A.E -1 143 

Al  Sunset Ltuit  V.  Ledoyx 1144 

"One  Moming,  Ofal  so  Early" Jtan  Ingthw 1144 

Across  the  Door Fadrau  Csfvn 1145 

May  MarKBret TUvphSt  Uanials 114s 

Randd,    "Kissirm    her    bajr,    1    sat 

■^inAt  her  Feel" Als'mon  Charki  Smnbimif.  1146 

A  f^f'iB  Journey AIke  Frrtman  Palmtr 1147 

TbeBroi^Hde Rklnrd  UimcUau  MUnei.. .  1147 

Sonfi,  "  for  me  the  jasmine  tMids  un- 
fold"  Florence  Earlt  Caalts 1148 

What  My  Lover  Snid Homer  Grrau 1140 

Uay-Muaic Rachd  Annand  Taylor 1150 

Song,    '■Flame  at    the   core   of   the 

world" Arthur  UptoH 1151 

A  Memory Frednic  La;i-rrnii  Kmrwles..  1151 

Love  Triumphaat Frederic  Lawrence  Knmiits,.  itjj 

Lines.     "Love    within     the    lover's 

breasl" George  Ueredlli iisi 

Love  amoiiB  (he  Ruins Robert  BrawHins 1154 

Earl  Mertoun's  SoiiE Robert  BrmDiiuig iis6 

Meeting  at  Niftht Robert  Brournina ii,S7 

Parting  al  Momiiu" Rahtrl  Brmt-niHg iisj 

The  Turn  of  the  Road Atire  Rollit  Cae 1158 

"My  Delight  and  Thy  Delight' Keterl  Bridgri iijg 

"O,  Saw  Ye  the  Lass" Richard  Ryan ri59 

Love  al  Sea Aleernan  thartrs  Svmbiane.  1 159 

Mary  Beaton's  SonR Al^erum^  Charles  Saiiibunu.  iiM 

PliKhtcd Dinah  Maria  Mu!o<liCraik.  1161 

A  Woman's  Question Adelaide  Anire  Frailer iifii 

"Dinna  AskMe" John  Dunlop iiSj 

A  Sour,  "  Sing  lue  a  a«ec«,  low  song  of 

nig^" HiUrxarde  Baarlhtme 11&4 

The  Reason Jania  Oppenheim 1164 

"My  Own  Ciilin  Donn" , . . .  .George  Sigerson 1165 

Nocturne. Amdia  Josephine  Hurr ii56 

SunenilcT Amelia  Josepkine  Burr 1166 

"By  You  Bum  Side" Rabrrl  rannaiitl I166 

APaittoral,  "Flowcroftbem['dlar"..7'AA);&iJr  Morauls 116; 

"When  Death  to  Eilhcrshnll  Come". ffoiefiBfiJuM,. iiOS 

The  Recouciliation Alfred  Tcnnysea 11O8 

Song.  "Wait  but  a  lilltc  while" HorvumCalt udO 

CoDteot Norman  Gale iijo 

Che  Sara  Sara Viclvr  Pltrr. 1 1  jo 

"Bid  Adieu  to  Girlish  Days" Jamer  Joyce 1170 

ToF.  C Uarlimrr  CMini 1171 

^>ing  Passion Jorl  Elias  Spingam iiTi 

Advice  to  a  Lover 5.  Charles  JrUiioe 1171 

"Yes" Richard  Doddiidit  Blackmort  1171 

Love - Samud  Ta^  Celtrider ii7S 

Vetted Babberton  Lulham 1176 

The  Letters Alfred  Tetmysan 1177 

Piothalamion FJmimd  Upenser 1178 

Epitbalamion Edmund  Sfenttr 11S3 

The  Kiu Sara  Teasdale 1104 

Marriage Wilfrid  W Hum  Gibson iigj 

The  Newly- wedded Winthrop  Macbwerik  Fraei .  ii« 

"l  Saw  Two^Cknidi  al  iAaau'Dg"JohnCardinetCiiltins Brain- 


Table  of  Contents 

Holy  Matrimony JehnKiUe 

Tb*  Bride Lauraict  Hapt 

A  Marriage  Charm Afwa  Hiipfir 

"Ltkealiverodtiii  (be  Lift" Jtait  Ingflim , 

My  Owen. Ellen  Mary  Palrick  Dvaaittg  i 

Doris:  A  Pastoral Arthur  Joseph  Mitnlyy 

"He'd  Nothing  but  His  Vidin" Uary  Kyle  Dallai 

Love's  Calendar William  Bett  Scotl 

Home Dora  Creenadl 

Two  Lovers Georgt  Eliot. 

The  Land  of  Heart's  Desire Emily  UuKlinglm  UiUer. . . 

My  Ain  Wife Alexander  Laing 

The  Irish  Wife r*i>fiMj  i'Arcy  IdcCtt 

My  Wife's  ft  Winaome  Wee  Thing. , .  .Subtrt  Burns 

Lettice Dinah  Uaria  liuloch  Craik. 

"If  Thou   Wert  by    My    Side,    My 

Love" Reginald  Hehtr 

The  Shepherd's  Wife's  Song Rahtrl  Greene 

"Trulh  dolh  Trulh  Deserve" Pkiiip  Sidney 

The  Married  Lover Cavenlry  Palmare 

My  Love James  Russell  LotvU 

Margaret  to  Doldno .Charles  Kingsley, 

Dolcino  to  Margaret Charles  KiHgsley. 

At  Last Richati  Henry  Sloidatd 

The  Wife  to  Her  Husband Unkiunm 

A  Wife's  Sone WiUiam  Cox  Bennett 

The  Sailor's  Wife WUliam  Julius  MickU 

Jerry  an'  Me Hiram  Rieh 

"Don't  be  Sorrowful,  Darling" Rembrandt  Pcale. 

Winifretla Unknown 

An  Old  Man's  Idyl Richard  Real} 

The  Poel'a  Song  to  his  Wife Bryan  Waller  Protter. 

John  Anderson Rabtrt  Bums 

To  Mary Samuel  Bishop 

The  Golden  Wedding David  Gray 

Moggy  and  Me Jame3  Hogg 

"O,  Lay  Thy  Hand  in  Mine,  Deiir"..  .Gerald  Uassey 

The  Eicquy Henry  King 


Sonnets  from  "  Amoretti " Edmund  Spenser 

Sonnets  from  "Aslrophel  and  Stella". fii/if^irfnfy 

Sonnets  from  "To  Delia" Samuel  Daniel 

Sonnets  from  "  Idea  " Mickad  Drayton 

.Sonnets  from  "Diana" Henry  Censlable 

SonneU WiOiam  Shakespeare 

"Alexis.  Here  She  Stayed" William  Drummend. 

"Were  I   as   Base  as  is  the  Lowly 

Plain" Joshua  Syltiester 

A  Sonnet  of  the  Moon Charles  Best. 

To  Mary  Unwin William  Coaper 

"Why  art  Thou  Silent" WUliam  Wordneorlh 

Sonnelsfroro "The Houseirf Life".  .  .Danle  Gahriei  Rosseiti 

Sonnets Christina  Geotgina  Ressetti. . 

How  My  Songsof  Her  Began Philip  Bourie  ifarslon 

At  the  Last Philip  Bourke  Marslon 

To  One  who  Would  Make  a  Con- 
fession  Willtid  Scaaen  B/iuit. 

The  Pleasures  of  Love Wilfrid  Scaaen  Blunl 

"Were  but  ray  Spirit  Loosed  upon 

the  Air" IjHdseCktndlerUiipbon... 

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Table  of  Contents 

Alia  ifnouK i rfj 

"My  Love  for  Thee" Rickard  Walsim  COdrt 1263 

SoDDCts  after  (he  Italian Rkhafd  Walim  Gildtr 1164 

Stamas  from  "ModetD  Love" George  Meredilh 11^4 

Love  in  the  Winds Richard  Bmey 1169 

"Oh,  Death  Will  Find  Ue" Rupert  Brnate 1269 

TbeBusy  Heart Rupert  Broolu 1170 

Hie  Hill Rxpi^i  Brmke 1170 

Sonnets  from  "SoniietatoMinada",.ICitfiiim  Walsan 1171 

Sonnets  Irani  "Thysia" UorUn  Luce 1173 

Sonnets    from    "Sonnets   from    the 

PorlUEUCw" Etizabelh  BatreU  Brmanmt. .  J176 

One  Won!  Mote Robert  Brmmtinc 1184 

"The  WorUb  too  Much  With  Us". . .  Wittiam  tVordsvortJi 


The  Book  of  the  Woiid WiUiam  Drttmnvmd 

Natute y«tM  Vtry 

Compensation CeWa  Thaxler 

Tlie  Last  Hour ElM  Clifford 

Nature Henry  Datid  Thoreau 

Sons  of  NatUTC Ralph  Waldo  Emtrien 

"Great  Nature  is  an  Army  Gay" Rkhtrd  Walsm  Gilder 

To  Mother  Nature Frederic  Lawrence  Knairles.. 

Quiet  Work MaUhevi  AmM 

Nature. .Henty  Wadiworlh  LoHsftlleui  1, 

"As  an  CM  Mercer" Uakhn  Leonard  Fis/ier. .  . . 

Good  Company Karle  Wilson  Baker 

"Here  is  the  Place  where  Loveliness 

Keeps  House" Madiim  Caaein 

God's  World Edna  Si,  VvKenI  MUlay 

SJc  Vita WiUiMH  Stanley  BrailkaaiU.  1 

Patmos Bditk  M.  Tktmas. 

DAWN  AND  DARK  '■'" 

Dawn  on  the  HeadUnd William  Walsm 

The  Miracle  of  the  Dawn, Uadisim  Can™ 

Dawn-angels A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 

Music  of  the  Dawn Virginia  Bioren  Uarrisoti . . 

SuoriseoD  Mansfield Moualain Alice  Brvmi 

Ode  to  Evening William  Collins 

"Jt  is  a  Beauteous  Evening  Calm 

and  Free" WiUiam  Wordmatik 

Gloaning RoIhtI  Adger  Bmaen 

Twilight OHvi  Cuilance... 

Twilight  at  Sea Amelia  C.  Wdby-  ■ 

"TUsisMy  Hour" Zo'iAkins 

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Table  of  Contents 

Song  to  the  Evening  Star Tkamas  Campbdl 

The  Evening  Cloud , .  .John  WiUm 

Song:  ToCS'nthte Be%  Jamm 

My  Star Raberl  Brmmint 

Night Waiiam  Blake 

To  Night Prrcy  Byssht  Skdlry 

To  Night Joseph  Blaaca  WkiU 

Night Jektt  Addinglon  Symaadi. . . 

Night Jama  Menlgemery... 

He  Made  Ibc  Night UoyJ  Mifflin 

Hymn  to  the  Night... Betiry  Wadsmrtk  iBafJeUtrv 

Night's  Manii  (Iras Edu'ord  J.  H'teefar. 

Dawn  and  Dark Normait  Gait. 

Dawn, , Gorge  B.  L^gan.  Jr 

A  Wcxid  Song .Rdpk  Bodtson 


A  Song  for  the  Seasons. Bryan  Wdier  Prottrr 

A  Song  of  the  Seasons Cosmo  Monk/must 

Turn  o'  the  Vcar Kalhtriat  Tynan 

The  Waking  Year Emily  Dickinson 

Song,  "The  year's  at  the  spring".. .  .Rebtrl  Bravming 

-Early  Spring Alfrei  Tenitysm 

Ijnes  Wiitlcn  in  Eariy  Spring li'iNHiin  Wardncorlb 

In  Early  Spring Alice  Meyaell 

Spring TIamtts  Natht 

A  Starling's  Spring  Riindcl James  Cousins 

"When  Dattotlils  begin  to  I'ect" WHliamSliakeipeare 

Spring,  from  "In  Mcmoriain" At/red  Teimyson 

The  Spring  Returns C'liarlts  l^eonard  ilnare 

"When  the  Hounds  oE  Spring"' AlgernoH  Cliarles Smmburne . 

Song,  "Again rejoicing Nalurc sees".. Rofirr/  Buns 

To  Spring ll'Uliam  Blake 

An  Ode  on  the  Spring. Thomas  Cray 

Sing Henry  Timrad. 
B  Meadows  in  Spring Edjcard  Filigcrald 

The  Spring William  Barnes 

"When  Spring  Comes  BaA  to  Eng- 
land"  Alfred  Nayes 

Now  Life Amelia  Josephine  Burr 

"Overthe  Wintry  Threshold" Bliss  Carman 

March William  Morris 

Song  in  March WUHam  CUmore  Simns 

March Nora  Hopper 

Written  in  March WiUiam  Wvrdsvtrik 

The  Passing  of  Mnr^h Robert  Bums  Wilson 

Home  Thoughts,  from  Ahroad Robert  Brmimitit 

Song, "April,  April" WiUiam  Watson 

An  April  Adoration Charles  C.  D.  Rohrrls 

Sweet  Wild  April William  Farce  SUad 

Spinning  in  April JosephHie  Preslon  Peabedy. . 

Song:  (Si  May  Morning John  MUlon 

A  May  Burden Francis  Thrrmpsan 

Corinna's  Going  a-Maying Robert  Herrick 

"Sister,  Awake" Unknvu'n, . ,-. 

May Edirard  HoMll-Thiirtine 

May Henry  SylTcsler  Comv/eil. . . . 

A  Spring  LHt ...  1 i/ii*«m« 

Summet  Longings .Denis  Florence  XftcCarlhy. . 

■  Midsumnier JohnTovmsnd  Trowbridge. . 

•  "^-■-  -      ^Song Richard  WaUonGUdo 

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Table  of  Contents  xlix 

Juiie.  [ram  "Tbe  VUod  of  Sir  Lann- 

fal" Jama  Ruisdl  Laiait. 1367 

June namiim  Siniih  litrris 1360 

Harvest Ettn    Maciaj    BuUhinsoa 

Carlusos. , 

ScnheSong Ati4rea  Lmt 1371 

St^ember Gtorgc  AmM 3371  ■'^•- 

Indiin  Summer EmUy  Dickimai 1373 

t>rcvEioa Ada  Poller  Murray >J73 

A  SoOK  of  Eiwly  Autumn fdckard  Waism  Older 1374 

To  Autumn -/o*"  Xmii :  137S 

Ode  lo  Autumn Thomas  Bond 1376        1- 

Ode  to  tbe  West  Wind Percy  Bysske  SkdUy 1378    -"' 

Aalumn:  a  Di^e Ptrcy  ByssluShdley 1380 

Autumn. Emily  Dictimon 1381 

'■VliBil.beeimlistaithePuakin"..  .James  WkHctmt  Riicy 1381 

Kott Prcdtric  ifnnntn; 138J 

OW  October Thomas  Constable 1383 

NtFwmber C.  L.  Cleateland 13*4 

MoTonber MaMon  Leonard  Pishtr 138s 

Stora  Few Roberl  Frosl 138s 

WiDls:  a  IKrge Robert  Bums. 1386 

Wd  Winter Thomas  Nod. 1386 

The  Frost Ilatinah  Flagi  Could 1387 

The  Frtotcol  Pane Cbarks  G.  D.  Roberli 1388 

Tta  Frost  Spirit John  Greerdiaf  WhiUif 13S8 

Smw Bitabelh  Aktrs 1390 

To  a  SnoHflake Frantis  Thompson 1391 

The  Soow-Showct WHliam  CuUen  Bryant 1391 

UMainter John  Townsend  Trowbridgt..  1303 

A  Glee  for  Winter Aljred  Domett I3<M 

The  Death  of  tbe  Old  Yeu... Alfred  Tennyson 13OS 

tMiie  for  the  Year Percy  Bysshe  Skelley 1396 


Wildanaamkeit Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 1398 

"Wbeo  in  tbe  Woods  I  Wander  aU 

AfcMie" FAiteri  Bev^Tharlaa i3og 

~"  Aipccts  of  thcPiuea Paul  Bamillon  BayHt 1400 

"Dk  Woodi  tbat  Bring  the  Sunset 

N(ai " Richard  Watson  Gilder. 1400 

— 4Jn<to  tbe  Leaves Albert  Laighlon 1401 

"On  Wenlock  Edge" Alfred  EdvMird  Bousman.. . .  1401 

-What  Do  We  PUnt" Henry  Abbey 140a 

.J-HieTiEe Jones  Very 1403 

The  Brave  Old  Oak Henry  FolhergUl  Chorloy. ...  1*03 

"TV  Girt  Woak  Tree  ttaat's  in  the 

ttdl" William  Barnes 1404 

To  the  Willow-tree Robert  Berrick 1406 

Enduntment Madison  Caieein 1406 

Tito  Joyce  Kilmer 1407  — 

TbHoUr-tree Robert  Southey 1407 

Uk  Pine Augutla  WOsler 1408 

"WoDdinan,  Spare  tbat  Tree" George  Pope  Morris i4og 

Tk  Beech  Tree's  Petition Thomas  Campbell 1410 

IkPopUrFidd William  Comper 1411 

The  Planting  of  Ihe  Apple-Tree William  CuHen  Bryant mi 

OluOrdianl Kalherine  Tynan 1414 

Aa(kdG>rdat  Avignon A.  Maty  F.  Robinson 1414 

--Jta  Tide  River    CharUs  Kingilay I4IS 

Tie  Brook's  Song Alfred  Tennyiast 1416 

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Tabic  of  Contents 

Arethusa Percy  Byiike  SUUy 14*18 

The  Catuact  o[  LodDfE Reberl  Sautiey 1430 

Song  of  the  Cbattaboodicc Sidney  Lanier 1413 

"Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton" Robert  Bums i+jj 

Canadian  Boat-Sons Tlamas  Uonre 1416 

The  Marshes  ol  Glynn Sidney  Lanier 1416 

TheTrouchs W^iatnWordivmlh 1430 

"~"Hynin  bdore  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  ~^ 

Chamouni Samuel  Taylor  CtHtridgt, , , .  1430 

The  Peaki Slitken  Crant 1433 

KinchiniuBga Cole  Ymmg  Rice. 1434 

The  Hills Julian  Grenfdt 1433 

Hemlock  Mountain SaraHf.  ClegkarH 143G 

Sunrise  on  Rydal  Water John  Drinkwaler 1436 

The  Deserted  Pasture Bliis  Carman 1438 

To  Meadows Rabtrl  Henitk i43g 

The  Cloud Percy  Byiihe  SMUy 1440 

April  Rain Robert  Lineman 1441 

Summer  Invocation William  Cox  Bennell.- t4*} 

April  Rain Malkildt  Blind 144J 

To  the  Rainbow Thamai  Campbell 1444 


^fy-Gardep  ■  ■  ■  ■ -.-.-.-..  Thomas  Ediiiard  Bruwn, ....    1446 

The  Garden Andrevi  Marveli 1446 

A  Garden Andrew  Mandl 1448 

A  Garden  Song Austin  Dabion 1440 

In  Green  Old  Gardens Violet  Pane j4SO 

A  Benedictine  Garden Alice  Brmm. .'. 14SI 

An  Autumn  Garden fl/iii  Carman 1451 

Unguarded Ada  Foster  Uarray 1455 

Hie  Deserted  Garden Elizabeth  Barrett  Brownins, ,   I4SJ 

A  Forsaken  Garden Alsemon  Charlei  SMinbiime.   n%i) 

Green  Things  Growing Dinah  Maria  UtUochCraik..   1461 

A  Chanted  Calendar Sydney  Dobell 1462 

Flowers Henty  Wadsisorlh  LtmtltUmo  1463 

Flowers Tkomas  Hood 1465 

A  Contemplation  Upon  Flowers Hetny  King 1466 

Almond  Blossran Edwin  Arnold. 1466 

White  Azaleas Harriet  McEaen  Kimbail. . .   1467 

Buttercups Wilfrid  Thorley. 1468 

The  Broom  Flower Mary  Bowill 1463 

The  Small  Celandine William  Wardsmrlh 1460 

To  the  Small  Celandine William  Wordswertk 1470 

Fouivleaf  Clover Ella  Bigginson i47a 

Sweet  aover Wallace  Rice >472 

"I  Wandered  Lonely  as  a  Cloud",  . .  .William  Wordstn/rth 1473 

To  Daffodils Robert  Herrich 1474 

To  a  Mountain  Daisy Robert  Bums 1474 

A  Held  Flower James  Monlgomery 1476 

To  Daisies.  Not  to  Shut  so  Soon Robert  Herrich 1477 

Daisies Bliss  Carman 147S 

To  theDai^ WUiiam  Wordsworth 147S 

To  Daisies Francis  Thompson 1479 

To  the  DandelioD James  Russdl  Lowell 1481 

Dandelion , Annie  Rankin  Annan 1483 

The  Dandelions Hden  Gray  Cone 1483 

To  the  Fringed  Gentian William  CuUert  Bryant 14S4 

Goldenrod Elaine  Goodale  Eastman 1485 

Lessons  from  the  Gorse Elisabeth  Barrett  Browmng . .  i486 

The  Voke  of  The  Grass Sarah  Roberts  Btryie. 1487 


Table  of  Contents 

A  Song  tbe  Grass  Siws Charkt  G.  Bianim 

Tlie  Wild  HooeyMCfcrs PUHp  Fmuau 

Tbe  Ivy  Green Charles  Dicllmi _ 

YcUow  Jessamine Cmslancc  Fenimort  W<ialit»    i 

Knipwcol A  rtkur  Ckrislophtr  Beasm , .  i 

Moly EdUk  Maliida  Tliomas - 

Tbe  MominK-Gloty Fhttaa  EstU  Coalit, 

The  Mountain  Hearl'a-Ease Bret  Harle 

The  Primrose Robirl  Herrkk 

To   Primroses   60ed   with   Monung 

Dew RobalUerrick 

To  an  Early  Primrose Hnrv  Kirke  Wkilt 

TbcRhodora RdpkWaido  Emtrton 

TV  Rose WiUiamBrmime 

WiH  Roses Edgar  Fawcea 

TIk  Rose  oT  May Mary  Hamit 

A  Rose Rkiard  Fanskaiee 

Tbe  Shamrock Uaurite  Francu  Egan. 

To  Violets Rabat  Iltrrkk 

The  Violet WUliam  Witmere  Slory. . . . 

To  a  Wood-Violet Jekn  BaniiUr  Tatb. 

Tlie  I'iolct  and  the  Rose AuguHa  WcbsUr 

To  a  Wind-Flower Uadisim  Cawein 

To  BkHsonis Robert  Herritk 

"Tis  the  Last  Rosa  of  Summer".. .  .Thomas  Heart 

Tbe  Death  of  the  Flowers William  CuUen  Brjml 


OnrcanaTiOK Margarel  Beaien 

To  a  Mouse Robert  Burns 

The  Orasshopper Abraham  Cmilty 

On  the  Grauhopper  and  Cricket John  Keats 

To  the  Grasshopper  and  tbe  Cricket.  .Leigh  Buitt 

The  Cricket WiUiaK  Cawprr 

To  a  Cricket WiUiamCax  Bennett 

Toan  Insect; OUter  WauUii  Untmei 

The  Snail William  Cavper 

The  Housekeeper Charlts  Lamb 

Tbe  Humhle-Bee Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 

ToaButlerQy Willian  Wordsworth 

Ode  to  a  Butterfly Thomas  Wen/worth  Iligginsai 

The  Butterfly Alice  Fteeman  Fidraer. 

Krcdies Fdgar  Fasucclt.. 

The  Blood  Hone Bryan  Waller  Procter. 

Birds MoiraO'Nm 

Birds Richard  Henry  Stoddard . . . 

Soi'BinU Eliaabelh  Akers 

The  Little  Beach  Bird Richard  Hairy  Dana 

The  BlacklHrd Frederick  Tennyson 

TheBhckbird A^nd  Edteard  Bousman.. . , 

The  Blackbird WiOiam  Emtst  HenUy 

T1»e  Blackbird WUUam  Barnes 

Robert  of  Uncoln William  Cvilai  Bryant 

The  OXincon  Family Wilson  Flagt 

The  BoboUnk Tkimas  Bill. 

My  Catbird William  Henry  Venable.. . . . 

The  Herald  Crane Bandin  Carlattd 

The  Crow WHKam  Canton 

To  [he  CndcoD John  Logan 

The  Cuckoo Frederick  Locker-Lamfion .  . 

To  tbo  Cuckoo WOUam  Wordsworth 


Tabic  of  Contents 

TlieEigle AlfrtiTi^ 

TheHawhbit Ckarlrs  G.  D.  Roberts ijjg 

The  Heron Edxnard  Bovdl-Tiutlmc. 1540 

Thejadcd&w WilUam  Cmeper 1540 

The  Green  Linnet WHIiam  WBtdswBrlh 1541 

To  Ihe  Maa-of<War-Bird Walt  Whilman is4i 

TheMnryland  Yeriow-Throat Henry  Van  Dytc 1S43 

Lament  of  a  Mocking-bird Franiet  Anne  KemNe 1544 

"ONighUn«ale!   Tbon Sardy  \n" .  .William  Wnrdswortt 1S4J 

Philomel Richard  Barnefidd i;4a 

Philomela Mallhew  Arnold 1547 

On  a  NiRhtingale  in  April IViUum  Skarp 1548 

To  the  NiKhtingHle William  DrumiKond 1548 

The  NtRhUngale Mark  Akenside is49 

To  the  Nightingale John  MUlon 1551 

Philomela PliUip  Sidney 1511 

Ode  to  H  Nigbtingale John  Ktau iss* 

Soiw,  T^s  »we«  lo  hear  the  meny 

lark : . .  .Hartley  Caleridte isS4 

BirJ  Song. Laura  E.  Riehtiris 1S5S 

The  Song  the  Oriole  Sings W^iam  Dean  Hwsdls 1556 

To  an  Oriole- Edgar  Paiocai iss7 

Song:  the  Owl Alfred  Tenojison ISST 

■'  Sweet  Suffolk  Owl " Tliomai  Vaulor. IssS 

The  I'ewee Jahn  Tenmsaid  Trmtridge..  155S 

Robin  RedbtMat GtorKe  Washington  Daanc.    1561 

Robin  Redbreast William  AUinsham 1561 

TTie  SnndjHpet CdiaThatlct is6j 

TheSea-Mew Eliiabclh  Barrrll  BroamiHt. .    isfij 

To  a  Skylark WUIiamWordsumlk is<is 

To  a  Skylark William  Wotdswtrlh 1566 

The  Skylark Jainti  Bote ijM 

TbeS^latk Pridtritk  Tatnysan 1567 

To  «  Skylark Percy  Bysskt  ShtUty 15^ 

The  Stormy  Pctrd Bryan  Wallrr  Procler. isTi 

The  First  Swallow Charlolle  Smith JS73 

To  ■  Swallow  Building  Uniler  our 

Eaves JancWdskCarl^c isTJ 

CHmney  Swallows Heralie  flelspn  Fvaiers isjs 

Itylus   Algernon  Charles  SiBittbume.    1576 

The  Throstle Alfred  Tennyson 151S 

OvtrBow Jokn  Bamster  Tabb is7(r 

Joy-Month Dacid  Ata/oad  Wasson 1570 

My  Thrush ; Morlimcr  Collins 1580 

"Blow  Softly,  Hirash" J estpk  Rusi^l  Taylor is»i 

The  Black  Vullure George  Slrrline is«> 

Wild  Geeac Prederiek  Peterson 1581 

ToaWaliTfowl WiUiamCutltn  Btyanl    js8> 

The  Wood-Dove's  Note Emily  Bunlingkm  MUUr. . .    isHl 


Song  for  all  Seas,  all  Ships WailWkilman 1584 

Stanzas    Ironi    "The    Triumph    ol 

Time" Algernon  Chartei  Svinbiirne.  ijSs 

The    Sea    from     "Chikic     Harold's 

pilgrimage" George  Gordon  Byron is86 

On  the  Sea John  Keats 1588 

"With  Ships  Ihe  Sea  was  Sprinkled  "..K'ttfiamlTardnixir/t is8« 

A  Song  of  Desire Prrdrric  Lavrrnte  Knoaies..  1589 

The  Pines  and  the  Sea Chrislopher  Ptarse  Cranck . .  1590 

Sea  Fever JolmMasefidd ihm 


Table  of  Contents 

HastiDo Mill. ..: C. Pox Smiili 

"A  Wet  Sheet  and  a  Flowing  S«" AIUh  Ctmningkam 

-TlieSea Bryim  WaUer  PraOer. . . . 

Sailor's    Song    from    "Death's  J«st- 

"    '"  .  .TMomai  Lmcll  Beddaes.. 

<D  the  Ocean  Wave" EpesSargaU.. 

•■■       ""  ..Walltr 

Tabling  Sliip  oS  Shore WalKr  Uilchtll. iSOS 

Id  Our  Boat Dinak  Uaria  Muloct  Craik..    1507 

Poor  Jack C*«rfcj  DiHin 1597 

"Rocked  in  theCradleof  the  Deep".. Emma  ffnrflCiJ/ant. isgg 

Outward John  G.  Neikardi ijoq 

A  Passer  by Robert  Bridtei itmo 

Oa  Kiviure  du  Loup Duncan  CompbeU  ScM [601 

ChriiUnas  at  Sea Srbtrt  Louii  Sletemon 1601 

The  Port  o'  Heart's  Desire 70*11  5.  U<Grearly 1604 

On  Ihe  Quay Jtkii  Joy  Bdl 160s 

Xbe  Forging  ol  the  Aocbor Samud  Fatfomi ttnb 

Drifting    Thomas  Buckanan  Read ibog 

"How's  My  Boy  " Sydney  D/^hU 1611 

The  Long  While  Scam Jean  Itifrlov 1613 

Storm  SoDg Bayard  Taylor 1614 

The  .Mariner's  Dream William  Dimond 1615 

Theliurhcape  Kodt RabrrI  Soutkey 1617 

The  Sea RUkard  Henry  Sloddatd 1619 

The  Sands  of  Dee Ckarlts  Kingsley 1619 

TV  Three  Fishers Ckarta  Kingilty i6io 

Ballad    Harriel  PresioU  Spojord., . .  1611 

The  Northern  Star Unkmwa 1611 

The  Fisher's  Widow A  rlkar  Symoia 1631 

Caller  Herrio' Carolina  flairiit i6>i 

Hannah  Blading  Shoeg Ltuy  Lanom ibid 

The  Sailor WOliam  AUingham i6as 

The  Burial  o(  the  Dwte Il/nry  lloieatd  Brauntli jbi6 

Tom  Bowling Charles  Dibdin 1628 

He«miites Henry  NewMl idig 

The  Last  Bucmneet CkarUs  KiagsUy ' i6jo 

The  Laat  Buccaneer Tkomai  Babinglon  UacaiUay  1611 

The  Leadman's  Song Ckartcs  Dibdin i6ji 

Homewanl  Bound WiUiam  Allingkam i6j3 


The  Lake  Isle  oF  Innisfree WilHam  Buller  Yeats. 1634 

A  Wish SamHd  Raters 1634 

Ode  on  Solitude Altiander  Faft 1635 

"Thrice  Happy  He" WHliam  Drummond lOjj 

"Under  the  Greenwood  Tree' WUlittm  Shakespeare il«6 

Coridon'sSong Join  Ckalkhill 1036 

The  Old  Squire WU/rid  SioiMn  Bluni 1638 

Inscription  in  a  Hermitage Tkomas  Warlim 1640 

The  Keliremenl Charles  Collaa 1641 

The  Country  Faith /forman  Gale 1644 

Truly  Great WUliam  H.  Daties. 1644 

Early  Morning  at  B«i:gis nermann  Bagedom 1645 

The  Cup Jahi  Tmnutnd  Tnmbndge..  164s 

A  Strip  o4  Blue Ltuy  Larcom 1647 

An  Ode  to  hUster  Anthony  Stafford.  rihHKiuJiiDHMU 164O 

"TheMidgesDanceAboontheBum"£<i^l  TannahOl 1&51 

The  Plow Riekard  Bengisl  Home i6SJ 

The  Useful  J'low Unhunm i6S3 

"To  Ooe  Who  baa  Been  Lang  in  Oty 

P«nt" JoknKeau i6j3 


Table  of  Contents 

The  Qaiet  Ufe Waiiani  Byri 1654 

The  Wish AbrakaiK  Cowley. i6js 

Enpostulalion  and  Reply William  Wardiaerlh i6$a 

The  Tables  Turned William  Wordiamik i5s7 

Simple  Kat ore George  JbIoi  Romants 1658 

"lFtATnoPoweTaV/onnnWiMi"..ErHtit  UcGaJey. lijo 

A  Runnabie  Stag Jekn  Daridaw i6SQ 

Hunting  Soilft Rickatd  Bevey i66t 

"  A-HuntiiU!  We  Will  Go" Henry  PitUimg 1661 

The  Angler's  Invitation Tkomai  Tod  SMiart i6&j 

The  Angler's  Wish ImakWallan 1664 

The  Angler John  Ouiikill 1665 


To  Jane:  the  Invitation Percy  Bysshe  SkelUy i66t 

"My  Heart's  in  (he  Highlands' floberl  Buriu. 1669 

,    "Alar  in  the  Desert" Tkamai  Prinale i66« 

Spring  Song  in  the  City Robert  BuckanaH 1672 

In  City  Streets : AdaSmilJi. 1674 

The  Vagabond ftoberl  Lottit  Skvensm 1674 

In  the  Highlands Robert  Louis  Stevenion . ....  1675 

The  Song  my  Paddle  Sings E.  Faiduu  Jokasen 1676 

The  Gipsy  Trail Radyard  Kipling 1677 

Wanderlust Gerald  Gould i67g 

"           ■■  —                                 .. Katkerine  Tynan i67g 

..Gertrude     BuMingUm     Uc- 

Gifert i68r 

Afoot Cfcwfaj  C.  D.  Roberts. i68j 

From  Romany  to  Rome Wallaie  Inoin ifiS.i 

The  Toll  of  the  Trail Hamlin  Garland 1684 

•'  Do  You  Feur  the  Wind?" Hamlin  Garland 1684 

The  King's  Highway Jokn  S.  MiGreatly 1685 

—The  Forbidden  Lure Fannie  Steams  Doris 16S6 

The  Wander-levers Richard  Bosey 16S6 

The  Sea-Gipsy Riehard  HoKy 1688 

A  Vagabond  Song Bliss  Carman i68g 

Spring  Song Bliss  Carman 1689 

The  Mendicants Miss  Carman i6gj 

The  Jojra  of  the  Road Bliss  Carman i6g4 

TheSongofthe  Forest  Ranger. Herbert  Baakford 1696 

A  Drover Padraie  Colum .i6g8 

Ballad  of  Low-Iie^loira Madison  CamiK 1699 

The  Good  Inn Herman  Knitkfrbocter  Viele.  1700 

Night  (or  Adventuren.. Victor  Slarbatk 1701 

SonR,  "Somelhins  calls  and  whisprrs"CcDrgKii><i  Goddard  King.. . .  1703 

The  Foreloper Rudyard  Rifling i7o,s 

The  Long  Trail Rudyard  KipliHg 1704 

PART  rv 


Ballade  of  the  Primitive  Jest Andrew  Lang 1708 



Table  of  Contents 

Advice WaUtr  Savofe  Landor 1710 

To  Fanny Tiomas  Moore 171 1 

"I'dbeaButteray" Tiomas  Bayiua  Bayly 171J 

"I'm  Dot  a  Single  Man" .Tiamas  Boid 171J 

To WinArop  Uackaorik  Praei.    IJ14 

The  Vicar Winlhrop  Maclmarik  Prati.   ijij 

The  Belk  at  the  BsU-room Winihrop  Mackworlk  Ftoei.    1718 

The  FineOhl  Enj-lish  Gentieimn Unktimm. 1711 

A  Temeiie  of  Littles,  upon  a  Vifkm  of 

Jelly  Sent  to  a  Lady Robert  Henkk 1713 

Cliivalnr  at  a  Discount, Edward  FilsteraU 1714 

The  BaUad  of  Bouilbbaiiae Wiiliaia  Makepeaee   Tkack- 

Tomy  Gr&ndinother Prtdtrici  Lochei-Lamtien . .  1718 

Hy  Hbtress'g  Boots. Predtrick  Lfcker-LamptoH . .  1730 

A  GinJen  Lyric Frederick  Lotitr-LamptM , .  173J 

Mrs.  Smith Fredirkk  Loiker-Lampsm . .  1733 

The  Skeleton  in  the  Cupboard Frederick  Loeier-Lampsm . ,  1734 

A  Terrible  lolant Frederick  Lecker-lampsan . .  1736 

Coffipanioiis CkarUs  Sluarl  Calvairy i7jS     ' 

Dorothy  Q   Olita-  Wendett  Bnlntes. 1738 

My  Aunt (Xiver  WeadeU  Holnm 1 740 

The  Last  I..eaf Oliter  Weiiddi  Belnit, 1741 

CoDtentnent Oliter  Wenddl  Hainies. 174J 

TheB<n's Otiner  Wendell  Bidtiui. 174s 

The  JoDy  Old  Pedagogue Giorge  Arnold 1716 

On  on  Intaglio  Head  of  Minerva.  . .  .Tkomas  Bailey  Atdriih 174S 

Thalia Tkamai  Bailiy  Aldrith 17SO 

Pan  in  Wall  Street Edmund  Clareiut  SUdumn . .  1751 

UpuD  Leabia — Arguing. Alfred  Cockrani ijS4 

To  Anthea,  wbo  May  GHninsnd  Him 

Anything.. Alfred  Cockreue 17SS 

The  Eight-Day  Clock Alfred  Cackrtne 1756 

A  Portrait Joseph  AikbySlerry 1755 

"Old  Books  are  Best" BesrrlyCkne i7sg 

Impreaaion Edmaid  Gain 1 75;) 

"With  Strawberries" .Wiltiam  Eneil  Henley 1760 

Ballade  o(  Ladles'  Naiscs WUHam  Emett  BaOey 1761 

Neil  G«ynne's  Looking-Glam Lamon  Blanckard, 

Minmennus  in  Cburch IViiiiam  Joknion'Cory 

CUy Edward  Verrall  Lucas 

Aucassin  and  Nicolete Praneii  William  Boiirdilliin . 

Ballade  of  Sumraer Andrew  Lang 

The  Ballad  of  Prose  and  Rbyme Aiulin  Dobsm 

"Good-Night,  Babelte".. Aialin  Dohsan 

A  Dialocue  from  Plato Anilin  Dobiim 

The  Ladies  oF  St.  James's Aailin  Debnm 

The  Cur*'9  Progress.    Austin  Dobum 

A  Gentleman  of  the  Old  School Aiulin  Dabion 

On  \  Fan AuiHn  Dabion 

"When  I  Saw  Vou  Last,  Rose" Aiulin  Dobion 

Urceus  Exit AuiHn  Dobson 

A  Corsage  Bouquet Charles  Benry  Luders 

Two  Triolets . Barrison  Koberttm 

The  Ballad  of  Dead  Ladies Danle  Gairiet  RosseUi 

Ballade  of  Dead  Ladies Andrew  Lang 

A  Ballad  of  Dead  Ladies Justin  Bu-Uly  UtCarlkv. . . . 

n  I  Were  King Justin  {/unity  McCorlHy.  ■ .  ■ 

A  Ballade  of  Suicide Gilbert  Keith  Cheiiertm.. . . . 



Table  of  Contents 

Chiffonst WiUiam  SoMutl  JeknstH . . . 

Tbe  Court  Historian WalUr  Thonbury. 

Mils  Lou Waller  deU  Mare 

The  Poet  and  the  Wood-toux H dm  Parry  Eden 

Students FlorciKi  Wilkinsim 

A  Likeness WUla  Siberl  Caihrr 

Ttw  Chaperon Henry  Cujier  Bufoer 

"A  Pitclierof  MienonetCe" Henry  Cuyler  Buttaa- 

Old  Kinjr  Cole Bdain  Arlingfen  RoHiueH. . 

The  Master  Mariner Cfwgt  SIttting 

A  Rose  to  the  Living Niimi  Walmian 

AKiH Atulin  Dabsm 

Biltek  auir  ChampiEnons Henry  AugHslin  Beers 

Mils  Nuut'S  Gown ZUiUa  Cocke 

Wing  Tee  Wee J.  P.  Denison 

MyGnDdmotfaer'sTuikey-TailFan.5antucf  ifi'nfsrn  Feci 

A  Moral  in  Sevres Mildred  Bim-cUs 

On  (he  Fly-leaf  of  a  Book  of  Old 

Plays WaUer  Learned 

The  Talented  Mao Winllmp  Uarlm-Drik  Praed. 

A  Letter  of  Advice Winthrei  Maekumrl/i  Praed. 

A  Nice  Correspondent Frederick  Laeker-Lampsm . , 

A  Dead  Letter Aiulin  Doisim 

The   Vympb   ComplaiiuDS   for   the 

Death  of  her  Fawn Andrea  Mandt 

On  the   Death  of  a  Favorite  Cat 

Drowned  in  a  Tub  of  Goldfishes. .  .ThoMOi  Gray 

Verses  on  a  Cat Charks  Davbeny 

Epitaph  on  a  Hare William  Coaper 

On  the  Death  of  Mn.  Throckmor- 

len's  Bullfinch William  Ciraper 

An  Ei^y  on  a  Up-Dog Jolm  Gay 

My  Last  Terrier Jokn  Halshan 

Geist's  Grave Mallkea  Arnold 

Laddie Katharine  Lee  Bain 

"HoW" Patrick  R.  Chdmers 


The  Vicar  ol  Bray, Vnknaum 183s 

The  Lost  Leader Raberl  Bnmming igj6 

Ichabod JoknGremkaJKkUlier 1837 

What  Mr.  Robinson  Thinks Jamei  Russdi  Uxelt iS^g 

The  Debate  in  Uie  Sennit Jamei  Ruisell  Loaeli 1840 

The  Matquis  of  Carabas Raberl  Broufh 1843 

A  Modest  Wit Sellak  Osbara 184s 

Jolly  Jack WiUiam  Makepeace  Thack- 
eray   1847 

TheKingof  BrenKord William   UakcptiKt    Tkaci- 

eray 1848 

Hoch!  der  Kaiser. A.  Macgrtfor  Rase. T849 

NongtonKpaw .Charles  Dibdin 1850 

The  Lion  and  the  Cub John  Gay 1853 

The  Hare  with  Many  Friends Jakn  Cay 1S53 

The  Sycophantic  Foi  and  the  Gullible 

Raven Guy  Welmore  Carryl 1854 

The  Friend  o(  Humanity  and   the 

Knifc-Grinder George  Canning 1856 

Villon's   Straijiht   Tip   to    all    Cross 

Coves WiUiam  Erneil  Henlej 1857 

Villon's  Ballade Andreic  Lang 1858 

A  Little  Brother  of  the  lUch Edward  Sandjari  Martin , . .  1859 


Table  of  Contents 

ri  Thomas  Pidds.. . 

The  Wodd's  Way Thanms  Bailty  AUttck . . 

Foe  My  Own  Monument MaUkmi  Prior 

The  Behop  OnlcTs  His  Tomb  at  Saint 

piued's  Church Robrrl  Brmmmg 

UpM  a  Vill«— I>oiminthcCity Rtberl  Brnmiag 

AU  Saints', Edmund  Vales 

An  Addresi  to  tie  Uno  Guid Raberl  Burai 

TbeDeaoin's  MastenMcre OfiwT  Wendflt  llidmts.. . 

Ballsdeof  a  Friar Andrrw  Lang 

The  Chameleon J"""  Uftrick 

The  Blind  Men  and  the  Elephnol Joka  Codjrey  Saxe 

The  Philosopher's  Soiles Jane  Taytar 

The  Maiden  and  the  LJly -/oSn  P'ar- 

The  Owl- Critic ---■  ' "' 

The  Ballad  of  Imitation 

TheCiHiundrumof  the  Woikabops. .  .Rudyard  Kiplmf 

The  V-a-s-e    Jama  JfS"n  Roche 

Hem  «nd  Haw Bliss  Carman ,_ 

Miniver  Chtevy. FdvHn  Arlinglm  RBtnmen  .  . 

Tien  As'in        ■Sum  Walltr  Foss 

A  Cooaervalivc Charlotte  Perkins  Sicism  Git- 

Similar  Cases CkarloUt  Perlani  Slelam  CU- 

Man  and  the  Ascidian Attdrm  io»«, 

The  Calf-Path Sam  Waller  Foil 

Wedded  Bliss .' Ckarlalle  Perkins  SleUaH  GU- 

Tbe  Hindoo's  t>esth Ceortt  Birdieye 

Ad  Chloen,  M.  A Mtrtimer  C-*--*  •  •  • 

"  A.  Uka  the  Woman  as  You  Can '■ . . .  B'f"" 'I'r?"'™''*      ■ 

"No  Fault  in  Women" , . 5™"'."5^*-  -^i 

"Are  Woroen  Fair" FratuisDavam  (?) 

A  Strong  Hand 1^'^^?f.- 

Women's  Loi«inr i"*"  ^l^".^ 

Tricdet ■■. ^'fj^^'t: 

Tlie  Fair  CffTSSsian Richard  Gamell 

TheFr— <><e  Phaeton MaUhaa  Prior 

TK  Lure John  Bayle  O'RcUly 

The  Ballad  of  Cassandra  Brown Htkn  Gray  Cone 

A  Reasonable  Affliclion. Mallkm  Friar 

The    Woman    with    the    Serpent's 

Tongue Wiltiam  Waisan 

Sumose    Amu  Reete  Aldrich. ..... 

Too  CaiMlid  by  Half Jahn  Godfrey  Saxe 

Fiile       . .  .,„ Ralth  Waldo  Bmerion. . . . 

Htnnian's  Will Vidmaum 

WMnai's  WiH John  Godfrey  Saxe 

>^j^ Waller  Savage  Landor 

The  Rtncdy  Worse  than  the  Dis- 
ease   Mallhew  Prior 

TTieNeof  Law Jama  Jefrey  Roche 

Cologni Samuel  Taylor  CaUridge . . 

Epitaph  01  Charles  II John  Wilnal 

Certain  Uaximaof  Hafiz Rudyard  Ki fling 

A  Baler's  Ihuzen  uvWizeSawi Edvard  Rowland  Sill 

Epigrams   , igrs,   t9i6,   1317,   igrS.  i 

Written  an  a  Lookine-glass Cninmwi 

An  Epitaph George  John  Cojrfey 

On  a  Henpecked  Squire Robert  Burns. 

Genera]  Summary Rudyard  Kitting. . 


Table  of  Contents 


An  Omai  for  Ladies Jaitpktnt  Daskam  Battn . . . 

"When  Lovdy  Wom«Ji " Plutcbe  Cory 

FragTnent  in  Imitation  of  Wordiworth.CiUAmKe  U.  Famkam. 

Only  Seven Ueiay  Samkrookt  Leigk 

Lucy  Lake NfMim  iiadiiHIosk 

Jane  Smith RuJyard  Kipting 

Father  William Lewis  Carroll 

The  New  Arrival Geerge  (Taiteig/os  Cable.. . . 

Drauter Ckarits  Sluatl  Cdtertey. 

•Twas  Ever  Thus Hairy  Sambrocke  Lagk 

a' Grievance James  Kennetk  SUphen 

"Not  a  Sou  Had  he  Got" Rkkari  Harris  Barham 

The  Whiting  and  the  Snail LemsCarrM. 

The  Recognition WilUar*  Sawyer 

The  Higher  Pantheism  in  a  Nutshell.  .Altenuti  Charles  Smnbumf. 
The  Willow-lrec WiUiam  Makcptati   Thach- 

Poets  and  Unnels Tarn  Hoed,  Ike  Yotager.. . . . 

The  Jam-pot Rudyard  KipltHn 

Batlod Charles  Stuart  Calixrlcy. 

The  Poster-Eirl CarUyn  Wdls 

After  Dillelante  Concetti Hiriry  Dug  Traill 

It UortimerCeOiiu 

Nephilidia Algernon  Charles  Ssanburtu. 

Commonplaces Radyard  KipKng 

The  Promissory  Note Bayard  7a>/sr 

Mrs.  Jadge  Jentins BrattarU 

The  Modern  HiawatHo.. George  A .  .Strong 

How  Often Ben  King '. 

"  It  I  should  Die  To-nishl " «/n  King 

Sincere  Flat teiy Jant^  Kenneth  Stephen 

Culture  in  the  Slums Uilliam  lu.tsi  Henley 

The  Poets  at  Tea Barry  Pain 

Wordsworth James  Kennelk  5/ert™ 


Father  O' Fly nn Alfred  Perceval  Grans 

Father  Molfoy Samuel  Lovtr 

Paddy  O'Rafthcr Samuel  Lover 

LarrieO'Dee Willian  W .  Fink 

The  Irishman  and  the  Lady WiUiam  Magiim 

Irish  Astronomy Chojlii Graham  Halpine.. . . 

The  Fiddler  ot  Dooney William  Sutler  Veats 

TheBirthof  St.  Patrick SamuH  Lmer 

Saint  Patrick      Benry  Bennell ■^.•-  .■ 

Mr  Molony^.A;r;iuntottheBdl...»■iUia«  Uaiepeace  TkoA- 

Bachelor-s  Hall ■/"*"  ^W'?- "  ■ "  .ii, 

The  Sabine  Farniet's  Serenade Prancts  Sylvestir  Makony  . . 

The  Widow  Malone Charles  James  Ltwr 

Widow  Machree  Samud  Lover  

The  Peaceable  Race ^*f '*"„A,1?'"''^,"'^L' ' ' ' 

The  Recruit  Robcrl  WtllMamCkamb»s. . . 

Finnigin  to  Fia.nnigaJi S.W.  (Milan 

Barney  McGee Rakard  Hiney 



Tsbk  of  Contents 

Tbc  Pipe  ot  TobuxD 7ai«  Ulitr 

Inter  Sodlks William  Emal  Henley. . 

An  Invitation Unknown 

AdMiniltiuii William  Ualupeact   TlMci- 

A  Salad SyineySmiA 

Vcnes  pUced  over  the  Door  at  the 

Entrance  into  tbe  ApoUo  Room  at 

the  Devil  Tavem Ben  Jmsm 

Lines  on  tbe  Hemuid  Tavern Jebm  Kiats 

"Give  Me  Ale" UnkHmm 

"Jolly  Good  Ale  and  Old  ■' JnhiSliU 

Drink  To-day /•*«  Fletcher 

Coraeemus    nos    Rosis    Antequam 

MarceKant Tluimia  Jurtan 

The  Epicure Abraham  Caaiey 

DrinkiDK AbraJiam  Ctuilty 

The  Wliitei  Glasa Ckarlei  CnUtn 

Harry  Carey's  Reply RenTy  Carey 

Gaffer  Gray TJiamai  BiJaefl 

"A  Reason  FairtoFHI  ray  Glass" Charla  Morris 

"Let  the  Tout  Pass" Ridnrd  Brimdty  ShtrWaii. . 

"Tbe  Year  that's  Awa'" J^m  Dnniop. 2 

John  Barleya>m Xabert  Buna » 

"nil  the  Bumper  Fair" Thomas  Moore ai 

"Wreathe  the  Bowl" Thenai  Maert 2 

Saint  Peny Thomas  William  Panoni . ..   ii 

"Sparkling  and  Bright" Chaiiei  Fcmo  BeSmati ai 

The  Mahogany  Tit* Wmiam  Makepeace   Tkach- 

Todlln'  Hame Vttknoan 

The  Cruiekeen  La«n Unhnown 

GfveMeibeOtd Robert  HimcUty  Majinger . . 

Tbe  Spirit  of  Wine WUliam  Bmtst  Btnley 

"Day  and  Night  my  Thoughts  In- 
cline"  ..RiekatdEipry  Stoddard 

FalMaS's  Song Edmund  Clarence  Stedmati . , 

.  The  Maltworm's  Madrigal A  usiin  Debsen 

The  Power  of  Malt Alfred  Bdviari  Bouaman 

A  Stein  Song Richard  Batey 

The  Kavanagfa Richard  Bovey 


Son^,  "  Whm  daisies  iMed  and  violets 

.  .William  Shaha'peore 

Tbe  Widow AUam  /tamiay 

Sneezing Leigh  Bum 

Cautiooaiy  Verses  to  Youth  of  Both 

Seiea Theodore  Edaard  Book 

ACredo. WiUiam   Makepeace    Thatk- 

Ilie  Lay  o(  the  Leidte WUliam  Bdmoniloune  Ay- 

Tbe  Legend  of  Helm  von  Stela Charlei  Godfrey  Ldand . . 

HaUowe'en John  Mayne 

"Yaw,  Dot  is  So" Charles  Pollen  Adams. . , 

Two  Hundred  Years  Ago WSiiam  Henry  Drummon 

Wreck  of  the  "Julie  Rante" WiUiam  Henry  DnimnoK 

Hinnpty  Diunpty Addvu  D.  T.  Wkiaty. . 


Table  of  Contents 

strictly  Germ-proof Aiilmr  daUmuK mj; 

CsveSedem! TkrodoriF.  Macitimut aojfi 

Revival  Hymn Joil  CMandler  Harris 1037 

The  Power  of  Prayer £trjiuy  and  Clifford  Lauo. .  xyS 

Nebuchadneszar trwin  Sastdl 1040 

Kentucky  Philosophy Barriitm  RobaUm 1041 

A  PlanUtion  Ditty Front  Leb^  SlaUm 1043 

Angelina, . , Paul  Lanrttue  Dunbar io+j 

A  Lay  of  Aadcnt  Rome Themoi  Vbarra 1044 

The  Wisdom  of  Folly £^01  Tkunujcrtlt  Fcwier, . .  1045 

The  Post  that  Fitted Riidyard  Kipling 1046 


No Thamai  Boed 3048 

To  Minerva Tkimai  Hood xo^i 

The  Alphabet Charles  Slaarl  Calvtrlty 3040 

ATragic  Story Willtata  Mabtptate   Thack- 
eray    >04Q 

The  Jumblies Fjlward  Lear joso 

The  Owl  and  the  Pusm-Cat fitooni  Ltar rosi 

The  Pobble  Who  Has  no  Toes Eiiuard  Ltar ms3 

The    Courtship    of    the    YoDghy- 

Bonghy-Bo Edmard  Liar 1054 

Nonsense  Verses Ed-ward  Ltar 2057 

The  Turtle  and  Flamingo Jama  Tlunuu  Fietdi 1058 

Jabberwodiy Louis  Corrofl jojg 

The  Gardener's  Song Leads  Carmli ao6o 

The  Walrus  and  the  Carpenter Lncis  CarrM 2061 

Songs  without  Sense Bret  tlarte 2065 

The  Lovers Pkodx  Cory  (?) 2067 

The  Twins Henry  Samhioelie  Lfigh ™68 

A  Threnody Geerge  Ttanas  Lanitan.  ■ . .  m>6o 

The  Fastidious  Serpent Henry  Jokntlmt 1070 

My  Reeollcctcst  Thoughts. CAortu  Edward  Carryl J071 

Mr.  Finney's  Turnip Vntnvnm 1071 

The  Siejje  of  BeUrade Unktunai 1071 

Ellen  M'Jones  Aberdeen WiUiam  Sckaentk  Gilbert. . .  1074 

To  the  Terrestrial  Rlobc WUltairt  Schaetuk  GUbal . . .  307s 

"HisHeart  was  True  to  Poll"-. Frartcis  Cmiiey  Bumand.. . .  2076 

Red  kidinft  Hood Gvy  Wetmore  Carryl J077 

A  Nautical  Ballad Charles  Edward  Carryl io7g 

The  Plaint  of  the  Camel CAoriei  Edvard  Carryl 1080 

The  Frog Ililaire  Bdloc K>8i 

Sa«e  Counsel Arllmr  T.  Quiiler-Ctuck io8a 

Child's  Natural  History Wikt  nerford ia&i 

Id  Foreign  Parts Laura  E.  Rkhards 1084 

A  Mosquito  Triolet Arislinc  Andersen 2085 

A  Grain  oE  Salt Wallace  Inein ao8s 

The  Purple  Cuw GdeU  Burgess «j8s 

Nonseiue  Verses GdeU  Burgess J086 

Veis  Nonsenslques Cearcedu  Uanrier J087 

Home Vnkiumn 2087 

Four  Limericks Can^yn  Weill 21388 

More  Lineridcs UnkHoum 2089 


AnElegyontheDcathoraMadDog.O/iwTGoMmii/*,. aogi 

An  Elegy  on  That  Gloiy  of  her  Sei, 

Mrs,  Mary  Blaize ,, ,  .Othtr  Galdsmilh 2002 

ThcDiverting  HiMory  of  John  Gilpin,  IKiUiani  Covpcr 2003 


Table  of  Contents 

Hk  Ruor-Sdier JtimWalat 

The  Thne  Warnioai Btotr  ThtaU  Fiota. j 

Tbc  Sailor's  ConsolatiiHi Charles  Diiiin s 

T«iQ  ffShanUr Reberl  Burin. j 

Uugiiily  dug Cri)rgeC<JminlJti,yavngtt. .    : 

The  Laird  W  Codipen Carolina  Nairnt  ami  Smaa 

Tbf  Wcllof  St.  Keync Robert  Sanliity .'.  '. 

Addi^  ton  Mummy Ilarau  Smilk i 

jolui  Crumlie Atian  CimKinghtm 

TheNeolle Samad  Woodinorlh : 

Meadventures  at  Marnale Richard  BarrU  Baihattt 

"The  Cunaki   Stood   on  tbc   Car- 

ronaJe   Frtdtritk  Marryat 

FailUess  Nelly  Cray Thomas  Head 

FiilhleM  Sally  Brown Tkemas  Hood 

"  I'leise  to  Ring  the  Belle" J'komai  Bood : 

ad  Grimes Aiitrl  GarUm  Crane 

The  Annuity Ccrrge  Otilram 

The  Smicfc  in  School WiUian  fill  Ptdmer 

"The  Pope  He  Lcadsa  Happy  I.iIe"..CAiirfes£eMf. : 

The  Height  of  the  Ridiciiluus Oliver  WendcU  Holmes. 

The  BalUd  of  the  Oyslerman Oliver  Wendell  Uolma 

LillJe  Billee WOliam  Makcpeact   Tkach- 

Tbejadcdav  of  Khcims Richard  Harris  Barkam. ...    ; 

The  Alarmed  Skipper,... JamtsThomai  Fiddi 

TTk  Puiiled  Census  Taker Jokn  Godfrey  Svu- 

Pyranuu  and  Thbbc John  Godfrey  San 

My  KamiUar Jakn  Godfrey  Saxe : 

Ham  Breittnano'!!  Party Charles  Godfrey  Iclani : 

"Nothiiw  to  Wesr" WHliam  Allm  BulUr 

I>»iiB(;rceitandhiBFb'iiiK-MacbInc.j0An  Tojettsnd  Tnmiiridse. . 

ThcSodcly  upon  the  Staoi^liuis Brel  Ilaite 

Do»'sFlat BrdHane 

Plain  LaiwuasefFoniTrulhEul  James,  ^Irrf  Uorle 

The  Relent Ceorne  Pope  U orris 

The  Flilch  of  Dunmow James  Camceie 

The  Yam  of  the  "Nancy  BctI" William  Sckaetick  CUberl. . . 

CipUunRcece William  Schvenck  Gilberl. . . 

■■SpHdallyJim" Bessie  Morean 

Rnbinson  Crusoe Charles  Edward  Carryl : 

Casey  at  the  Bat Ernest  Laarenee  Thayer. . ..  : 

At  a  Cowboy  Dance James  Barten  Adamt 

flehokl  the  Deeds Henry  Cuyltr  Buoner i 

tie  FusI  Baojo. Irwin  RussM 

'■How  Sle^  the  Brave" Wmam  CoBins 3194 


America Samuel  Francis  Smith sigj 

The  StK-SpanBled  Banner Francis  Scoll  Key aii>6 

The  Aoierican  Flag Joseph  Rednutn  Drake 31Q7 

VaniEce  Doodle F-dicard  Bangs  (?) iiq^ 

Hail!  Columbia Joseph  Hepkinlon 2100 

Cc4uiiibU Timathf  Puighl iMl 


Table  of  Contents 

"ObMothetotaMigitjr  Race" William  CtUkn  Bryant stoj 

Hymii  of  the  West Edmtaii  Ctareaat  Sttimtan , .  1104 

Concord  Hyma. .  . .,- «a'M  WoWo  EmetiM a»os 

Battle- Hymn  of  il«  Republic Jaiia  Ward  Ilaici 1106 

The  Eagle's  i*jQK   Sithard  Mansfietd ajoj 

The  rii# '>!>'*  By Dairy  11  alami  Smitett. itoB 

Urnp-iifest  Destiny RUIiard  Hotey tiog 

paaSoJdlcrFalieninthePhilipfriaes.H'iUiam  Vaii%lm  UBoiy itio 

An  Ode  in  Tune  of  HeiiUtioii tCiUtom  Vaughn  ilaoiy. . . .  tail 

The  Parting  of  the  Ways Joapk  B.Cildtr aiiy 

Diiie Danid  Decatur  EmiMt !3i8 

Dixie Albtrt  Pike «iiq 

My  Maryland Jama  Ryder  Randalt. 2110 

The  Virginians  of  the  Valley Francis  Orray  Ticknor ajjj 

America  to  Great  Britain ICauUiijrlan  AltsleH aij^ 

To  England Ctergt  Hairy  Bokcr aiic 

America Sydney  DabtU 2«s 

To  America Alfred  A  utlin aij6 

Saioo  Grit Robert  CoUyer tiaj 

At  Gibraltar Giorrt  Edaard  Wondifrry,. .  aiig 

Gibraltar Wil/rid  Scawai  Blunt 1230 

Mother  England Edith  U.  Thomas tiso 

"God  Save  the  King" Henry  Carey  (?) aaji 

Rule,  Britannia Jamet  Tkemson aiit 

"  Ye  Mariners  ol  England  " Tkomai  Campbell. 113  j 

"Ready,  Ay,  Ready" Herman  Charles  MtrinJe. . .  1134 

"0(  Old  Sat  Freedom  on  the  Heights  "^(/rcd  Tamyian 3335 

Ad  Ode  in  Imitation  of  Alcocus William  Jones 1136 

England,  1803 William  Werdiaorth aij; 

"England,  My  England" William Emetl Heniey 3130 

England Gerald  Maiiey. . . 1140 

The  Song  ot  the  Bow Arthur  Cman  D^i-   ■ 3341 

An  English  Mother Robert  Vnderwoa    '■'inien..  *J43 

Ave  loiperatrix Oscar  Wilde 3344 

Recessional Rudyard  Kipling 1148 

The  Wearin'  0'  the  Green Hnknomi 3349 

Darlt  Ro<ialeen James  Clarence  Mangan ....  3340 

Exile  of  Erin Themas  CampbeU 3253 

Andromeda James  Jeffrey  Roche. 3353 

Ireland Lionel  Johnson ajj3 

To  the  Dead  of 'oS Lionel  Johnson 3361 

The  Memory  of  the  Dead John  KeUs  Ingram 3363 

Cushia  ma  Chtee John  Phil pol  Curran 3163 

The  Green  Little  Shamrock  of  Ireland,,<iHfr<TOCfti-»Ty. 3364 

My  Land Thomas  Osborne  Oatis ai6s 

Painne  Gael  an  Lve Alice  MHIigan 33^5 

Irehind Stephen  Lucius  Cwyniie ij66 

"Hilbo' My  Heart" ElknaCarbery 3367 

Scotland  Yet Henry  Scott  RiiUeU 3168 

The  Watch  on  the  Rhine After  the  German  of  Max 

Scknrchenberter i35g 

The  German  Fatherland From  the  German  of  Ernst 

Morilt  Arndi 2370 

The  Marseillaise After  the  French  of  Rougel  de 

Lisle 327 1 


"CharUe  is  My  Darling" Uniamm 3373 

The  Farewell Roierl  Bums 2374 

"Here's  a  Health   to  Them  That's 

A**'" RtbtrtBurm ai7s 

p:hy  Google 

T»ble  of  Contents  Ixiii 

'■'.y!^^::::::: ,„6 

The  Blue  Bells  of  Scotland. 

The  Bonny  Earl  o(  Murray _  

Pibrocb  of  Dould  Dbu WaUer  San 

Border  BalUd Waiiir  ScoU'.' . 

"When  Banners  are  Waving" Uninmin j,'.^ 

The  British  Gienadiers UaknaaiK ",  ,,iX 

Hart  of  Oak DaxUGiurkk ■.'.■.  ,,^ 

The  Soldier's  Dream Tlumas  CampbdJ. in. 

The  Cavalier's  Song. WiUiam  UoUKnoeU 1182 

Cavalier  Tunei Robtrl  Brmiming 2i8j 

The  Song  of  the  Camp Bayard  Taylor 2185 

Revrille Miduel  OVtimiir isSe 

"I  Give  my  Soldier  Boy  a  Blade" William  ilagina ijSt 

Stooewall  Jackson's  Way JakH  Williamson  Palmer . . .   siSS 

Mask  in  Camp Jokn  RiabtKThonpsoii 2189 

The  "Grey-horse  Troop" Robirl  W .  Ckambtrs 1291 

Danny  Dcever Rudyard  Kipling iigj 

Gunga  Din. .., Rudyard KipUng 1294 

.   1108 


"Soldier.  Rest,  thy  Warfare  O'er ". . .  Widltr  Sarll 1301 

"Peace  to  the  Slumbcrcts" Tkanai  Uimrt 2301 

The  Minstrel- Boy r*oniaj  Uoore ijoj 

"It  i«  Great  forour  Country  to  Die"..  Janci  Gales  Percital 2303 

A  Ballad  of  Heroes Auilm  DabstH 1304 

The  Captain's  Feather Samuil  MiHlum  Peck 1305 

Enstand's  Dcnd Felicia  Dnrelkea  Uemans ijo6 

The  Pipes  o'  Gonlon's  Men J.  ScM  Cloigau 13OT 

The  Blue  and  the  Cray Francis  MtUs  Finch 130S 

The  Bivouac  o[  the  Deed TktDdire  O' Hara 13'° 

RoU-Call Nalkanitl  Grnkam  Skepkerd.  23 13 

DirgR Thomas  WUtiam  FarsBHS. . .  13 14 

Diqie  for  a  Soldier George  Binry  Baker 231J 

"Blow,  Bugles,  Blow" John  S.  McCroarly J316 

"Soch  is  the  Death  tbeSoIdier  Dies".  Aj*n-/Bii™jB'aj»(i 2J17 

The  Brave  at  Home Tk«mai  Buchanan  Read ijiS 

Somebody's  Darliog Marie  R.  La  Cesle 2318 

Little  Giffen Francis  Orray  Ttiknitr jjto 

Ode. Henry  Timrod aj2i 

Sentinel  Swigs AbramJ.  Ryan ijm 

Heroes Edna  Dtan  Froclar 2323 

TheOnlySon Henry  NewhoU 2324 

Yoong  Windebank ISargartl  L.  Woods  232s 

A  Harrow  Grave  in  Flanders Robert  Offley  Asklmrlon..  ..  1326 

V.  D.  F, Vnknmn ijj6 


He  Destruction  of  Semucberib Georce  Gordon  Byron 2317 

The  Vision  of  BeUiaxiar, George  Gordon  Byron 2318 

Hoiilius  at  tbe  Bridge Thomas  Babinglen  Macaulay  1319 

L<onidas George  Croly 1345 

Antony  lo  Cleopatra WilliaM  Haines  Lyile 2346 

Boidicea Wiliiam  Cireper 3348 

"tie  Never  Smiled  Again" Felicia  DorMkea  Bemans —  2349 

Bmrelnhis  Men  at  Bannockbum. . ,  .Robert  Bums >350 

Coroeadi Waller  Scott. IJS' 

Cttqr Francis  Tui 

Hk  Patriot's  Pass-word . 

.James  Moalgomery.. . 


Table  of  Contents 

The  Battle  of  OtWtbiira Uniaaam Ijs6 

Agincourt Mkhad  Draylen ii6i 

A  Ballad  or  Orieans A.  Mary  F.  ftabiiam Ij64 

Columbus LydiaHunUej  SigOHmey...  a.iOs 

Columbus     Joaquin  MUlrr >i66 

A  Lan>«t  lor  ITwldcn Jaac  ElKal I.i68 

Sir  n  umphrey  Gilbert Henry  Wadsworlh  Lan^rllto!  j  j&S 

rke  Armada Tienuu  Babintlaii  Mofoulav  ;j70 

"God  Sa*e  Elizabeth" Francis  Turner  Pal^art.    . .  ijt.I 

Ivry Thurnas  Babinglm  Maiavlay  !,!74 

The  "Revenge" Aljnd  Tcnnysm 2.17T 

The  Song  of  the  Spanish  Miin Jalm  Bnnell J.iBi 

Henry  Hudson's  Qurat Barlm  EtbrrI  Slnntim i.(Ki 

To  the  Virginian  Voyace Hickatt  Drayton i.lS* 

"The  Word  of  God  to  Lcyden  Qainv''.Jamiah  Eames  Raniin 3,186 

The  LandinROt  the  lllgrim  Fathers... /•■c(icioDofW*<MH™«i'r....  2.lK7 

The  Mayflower l-raslus  Welrelt  FJlsuvrlk . . .  a.iXo 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers John  Pitrponi ili>o 

The  Battle  of  Naschy Themas  Babinalan  Maf<i»:<iy 

The  Execution  of  Montrose WUtiam   FdmoH«eunt   Ay- 

An  Horatian  Ode  Upon  CromwcU's 

Return  from  Ireland Andrcto  Marrell '400 

On  the  Late  Massacre  in  Piedmont,  ..John  Uillim 3404 

Morfian FAmund  Clarence  Sledtnaa . .  1404 

The  Lamentable  Ballad  ol  the  Bloody 

Brook FJteari  Evtrrtl  naif J406 

The  SonK  of  the  Weslem  Men Roherl  Slephtn  Hamktr J407 

Bonnie  Dundee Walirr  Scolt 240* 

A  Ballad  of  Sarsfield Avbrty  Themas  De  Vert. ...  34  "> 

The  Battle  of  Blenheim Robert  Saulliey 1410 

Lovewell's  F'ighl Unknmai 14" 

Admiral  IJosier's  Ghost Rii-kard  dmrr 341s 

Fontcnoy Thomas  Osborne  Davis 3417 

Lament  tor  Culloden Robert  Bums i.tro 

A  Ballad  of  the  French  Fleet Henry  B'orfmwf/*  Langfelteee  mt 

Paul  Revere's  Ride Henry  WaJmvrlk  LongfdJoiB  nil 

New  Enitland's  Chevy Edaitri  F.tereU  Hale 3<n6 

Warren's  Address  at  Bunker  Hill John  FierponI S4J8 

The  Manland  Battalion John  Witliamsim  Palmrr.. . .  343O 

-Seventy -Sin William  Cullm  Bryant 24,1' 

Song  of  Marion's  Men Wiaiam  Cullen  Bryant 34J» 

Carmen  Bellicosum Guy  Humphreys  UcMasler..  2433 

On  the  Lossot  the  "Royal  CcorBe''...ICa(iomC(w^, 

Ctonona Arthur  Conon  Davlr 14)6 

Casablanca Felicia  Dorothea  Uemans.. . .  J4,io 

Hohenlindett, TIames  Campbell 3440 

Battle  of  the  Baltic. Tkomas  Campbrll. 2441 

TheFiBhlinKXemfraire., Henry  N  emboli 1444 

Skipper  Ireson's  Ride Jalm  Greadeaf  WhiUier. 1445 

The  Burial  of  Sir  John  Moore  after 

Corunna Charles  Wolfe 1448 

Inddenl  of  the  French  Camp Robert  Bemmint 344^ 

The  Eve  of  Waterloo George  Garden  Byron 3450 

Waterloo Aaireyde  Vere. 34S1 

Marco  Bozlaris Fitt-Greent  Hallrch 3453 

OW  Ironsides OHner  Wmdeil  llolaies 2456 

The  Valor  ot  Ben  Milam Clinlan  Scollard I4S7 

The  Defence  ot  the  Alamo Joanuin  MiOer 24S8 

The  Fight  at  S«n  jadnto JohnWWiamson  PtUma . . .  a4,?9 

The  Wreck  of  the  TIcspeni<i Henrv  Wadsworlh  Lmaffllav  3461 

The  Lost  Colors Eliiabelk  SIttarl  Phelpi  Wufi  0464 


Table  of  Contents 

A  Ballad  of  Sir  John  Fmiklia GturfC  Henry  Baker  .  i46( 

MonUicir Ckarlts  FcHiw  Haffman 1470 

Pescbiera Arthur  Huei  Clauak  laji 

TKc  Loss  at  tbe  Birkenhead Francis  UaiH'its  bovie  itji 

The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade Alfred  Tinnysm... '  3471 

The  Relief  of  Lucknow. Robert  TraiU  Sptace  t^vll     3475 

ThePrivaleodheBufls, FratKii  HasltBts  DaiU J478 

How    Old    Brawn    Took    Uarpcr'3 

Ferry Edmund  Clarenee  Slidnuui. .  1470 

Brown  of  Ouatratomie John  Crcnleaf  Whiititr 1484 

Brother  Jonathan's  Lament  for  Sister 

Caroline OtiverWendMHelmes J4S5 

The  Reveille Bre!  Ilarle 1487 

The  Washers  of  the  Shroud Jamei  Rnsstll  LmxU 1488 

The  Picket-Guard ElM  Lynn  Beers i4gi 

Civil  War Ckarlts  Daiesen  Shanly.. . . .   a4Qj 

Kearny  at  Seven  Pines Edmund  Clarence  Sledman .  ■   140J 

BiHwra  Frietchie Jthi  Grtenlet^  Whillirr. . . .   1404 

Keenans  Charge Geor%e  Panoas  Lalhnip 341)7 

The  Black  Regiment Crorge  Henry  Baker 3500 

ThelliRhTidcatGeltysbiUK Will  Henry  Thompson 2501 

Johns  Bums  <A  Gettysbun; Brtt  Ilarle , . ,   3504 

Farragut ...William  Tucker  Uereiilh...    1507 

Craven. l/iHry  Nraboll 350P 

Sheridan's  Ride Thomas  Buchanan  Read. ...  3510 

Son«o(Shcman'sMBrchtolheSra..5<iiB»J/;.lf.By(ri..      ...   1511 

A  Second  Review  ol  the  Grand  .^rmy .  Bret  Ilarle 3513 

The  Conquered  Banner.    . , Abram  J.  Ryan ijiS 

Driving  Home  the  Cows Kale  Putnam  Osgood 3517 

Ode  Recited  at  the  Harvard  Com- 

memoralion Jamrs  RusstB  L'B'eU »5i8 

Custer's  Last  ChatEe Frederick  Wldllaker 3520 

The  Last  Redoubt Alfred  A  Milin .  3531 

"Fujay-wuizy", Radyard  Kitting 0533 

TheWoid  of  the  Lord  from  Havana.  .Richard  llmcy 2SJ5 

Dewey  at  Manila Robert  Undrricaod  Johnson. ,    3537 

Deeds  erf  Valor  at  Santiago Clinton  Scollard 2540 

Breath  on  the  Oat Jtseph  Russell  Taylar 3541 

When  the  Great  Cray  Ships  Comein..CiiyHV/»iwfC8fFiy/ »S43 

1Q14. Xuperl  Brooke 3544 

Tlie  Fourth  of  .August Laurence  Binytn 1546 

August,  lOK John  UasrfielJ. 2S47 

AChantof  Hate  Against  England..  .  .Barbara  Ilenderton,  Ir 3549 

A  Chant  of  Love  for  England Helen  Gray  Cant   2551 

Sonnets  Written  in  the  Fallot  1414... George  £dinir<fH'Dn(ic7r>...   3551 

Vouth  in  .Arms Ilarald  Monro 3555 

Magpies  in  I'icardy Uninaii-n 2556 

Songs  friMn  an  Evil  Wood Lard  Dunsany 3557 

"I  Havea  Rendezvous  with  Death".,  ^/uiiS«j;fr 2560 

The  Sjwres  of  Oxford Wini/rtd  it.  LtUs 11560 

All's  Wdl F.  W.  Baurdiilm 3561 

Rcvdlie ...  .lAmi,'  Unlermeytr 2563 

To  the  United  Stales  oFAmerira Robert  Bridges 2561 

Your  Lad.  and  my Randall  Parrish 3563 

A  Poet  Enlists A  mrlia  Josephine  Barr 1564 

On  the  Prospect  ol  Planting  Arts  and 

Learning  in  America Geergr  Brrielcy. 2565 

Bermudas Andrr^v  MnrwU 3566 

Indian  Names tydia  Uunlley  Sitivnty .  . .    5567 


Table  of  Contents 

Mannabatli ,. .  .WaitWhilman. asM 

Gloucester  Moors Wiiliam  Vaufhi  Heady 1560 

The  Song  of  the  Corado Skartut  M.  HaU 1571 

Now Harriel  Uimnc 1573 

Out  WheK  the  West  Begins Arthur  Cliapmaa IS74 

The  tJ"  of  the  Yukon Xoberl  IV.tifrvite 1575 

tlaei  Comnosed  a  few  Miles  above 

Tintem  Abbey Williaai  Wordnmrlh 1578 

The  Pass  of  Kirkslonc.. Iftf-'mn  Wardsvwik 358; 

Yarrow  Unviated IVUliam  If  onteBwI* 1584 

Yarrow  Visited William  Worissuorlk 2586 

On  ■  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  Col- 

legc rfawBB!  Gray 2580 

A  SoHB  of  Sherwood Alfred  Noyti 1 . . .    asfli 

Godiva Al/rcd  TeanysiiH ijgj 

Dover  Beach MMhri-  Arnold isgs 

St.  Micharl's  Mount Jokn  Datidsm 1506 

Sonnet  Composed  Upon  Westminster 

BriciBC William  WarduMinh 1557 

A  SonK  of  Fleet  Street AliftWcmrr 3507 

SonR Jahi  DacidseH 3508 

St.  James's  Street Frederick  Lmkrt-Lampson. .   2500 

The  South  Country ,. llUairt  Bdloc i6oi 

EillnbuTKh Alfred  If ffyrt i6oj 

Conymeela Maira  O'Nrill i6o^ 

TheLittle  Waves  of  Breffny EraGttr-Bnalh 1(105 

A  SonR  of  Glenann itoira  O'Neill, i6os 

The  Maiden  City Charhllr  FJiidbclh  Ttnma. . .   1606 

The  Dead  nt  Cionmiicnois T.M.  RoUesUm 2607 

Sweet  Innisfallen Thamas  Moore 1607 

"Ah,  Sweet  is  Uppemry" Dmii  A'lysius  MeCariliy...   i(io8 

The  (irovGs  of  Blame}' Riehara  Alfred  llUIHin j6oo 

The  Bi'lls  of  Shandon Francis  Sylmltr  Hahony. . .    1610 

"De  Gurtibua — ". Roberf  Bro-i-nins sGii 

Italian  Rhapsody Rebrrl  UadrrVMod  Jaknsm..    ifii.i 

Above  Salcmo Ada  Feun  ifurray, 2fti6 

Venice Cearge  Gordon  Bynm 3618 

Venice , John  Addinsbm  Symondi. . .   a6ig 

On  the  Extinction  oC  Ihe  \'enelian 

Republic William  WordTKOtlh i6ic 

The  Guardian-.KnBcI RobrrI  BrmnHitig s6jo 

Pcrutria Amdia  Joirpkinc  Burr   itiii 

"There  is  a  Pool  on  Gnrda" Clinlm  Scellard Jftj.i 

Chorus  fmm  "Hellas" Percy  Bysslie  Sheltry jGm 

The  Isles  of  Greece, , , G/or[e  Gordim  Byron Jdsj 

The  Belfry  of  BruBes Henry  Wads^i-orlh  LougfrUani  ibij 

Nuremlierg tlrnry  Wadruvrik  lAmtffUoa  ibji 

Biogen  on  the  KhLne. CaroiineElisabelk Sarah. \or- 

lon 3634 

"  As  frame  Down  troml*banon"...C(in(i>B.Sc(>afli'rf 2(137 

Ceylon A.  Iliisli  Fhkrr 1(1,18 

Mindalay Rudyard  Kiplins 2638 

Nubia BayardTayior ad^o 


Thomas  the  Rhymer 

Earl  Mar's  DauglUcr 

The  Twa  Sisters unmimii. 

The  Wife  of  Uther's  Well Unkxmn. . 

A  Lykc-Wakc!  Dirge I'nkno^i-n. . 

The  Douglaa  lYagedy   UnhtBon.. 

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Table  of  Contents 

Pair  Annie. Unbiowa itisb 

TV  Lass  ol  Lochroyan Unioimrn 2O60 

YouiM!  B«  -and  Susie  Pye UnknineH :b66 

TIk  Gny  Ros-Uawk (/niiwoB »6?i 

Smet  William  ojid  May  Mare'rct. .  .ViikiuKm idjfi 

Willy  Rcilly Vntiunon 1678 

The  Twa  Corhles UnkHeum 2680 

Tht  Three  Havens Unkaaiai 3680 

LordRandaJ Unbtoan j68i 

Edward.  Edward Vnknaaii idKj 

Ridilles  Wi««ly  Eifmnndnl ...Unknnm i68j 

Sir  Patridt  Spens Uaknotm 1(185 

Edoni  o' Gordon Unhimm ibf» 

Robin  Hood  and  AHen-a-Dale Uutiunat :6gi 

Chfvy-Chjise VainBUM 1695 

Birbara  Allen's  Crodty Utihumn ■^^a^ 

The  Bailiff's  DauRhlerDddinjrlon, .  .Vtiknaan 170J 

King  John  and  the  Abbot  of  Canter- 
bury    VntaoKti 1707 

The  Friar  o(  Orders  Gray Tlujiaas  Peny 1710 

Bonroe  George  Campbell Viiknmim 1714 

RostbeUe WallrrScoll ,  3715 

Alice  Brand - Waller  Scoll 2716 

Song  from  "Rokeby" Walter  Scoll 1710 

Clenara Thsnas  Campbell 2722 

Lord  Ullin's  Daughter Thomai  CampMl T713 

Sir  Galahad Al/rrd  Tenaynai 1724 

Lady  Clare .Alfred  Tainyson 3717 

Clcnkindie William  Bell  Scall 27JO 

■Ho*  They  Brouittit  the  Good  News 

from  Ghent  lo  Aix'' Raberl  Broaning 1732 

The  OU  Scottish  Cavalier WUIiam   Edmmilomt   Ay- 

The  Ballad  of  Kdth  oF  RavdEton Sydney  Deicil. '.'.'.'.'.['.[]".'.  2736 

TheMblletoe  Bouph Thomas  II aynet  Bayly 2738 

TIm  Abbot  of  Intsfalen WiUiam  AUitisiam 2739 

The  Cavalier's  Escape Waller  Thominry 2J4J 

The  Three  Troopers Waller  Thonibary 2743 

The  Sally  Iroro  Coventry Waller  Thorabury a74s 

Shamdul  Death WiUian  U orris 2746 

The  Kime  of  [he  Ancient  Marfrwr. .  .Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge. . . .  1747 

The  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram Thomas  Hood 2767 

The  Ballad  of  Heading  Gaol Oicar  Wilde 277J 

The  Ballad  of  Judas  Iscariol. Ki-ierl  Baclianait 2791 

HeFrll  AmonE  Thieves Henry  NevMl 2707 

The  Last  tlunt William  Raseoe  Thayer 2709 

Andri'aRide A.II.Biesly 2801 

The  Ballad  o(  Father  Gilligan WiUiam  Bulirr  Veals j8oj 

Herv*  Kid Robcrl  Brauminn 2S04 

The  HiRhwayman Aljrei  Saves 28og 

LoncekX  and  Guinevere Cerdd  Goaldl 2813 

Ballad  of  the  Goodly  Fere Ifsra  Pound 281a 

Eve .Ralph  Hodgson 3H16 

"Tane,  You  Old  Gipsy  Man" Ralph  Hodgson 2817 

Chan-son  of  the  Bells  of  Oseney Cale  Voung  Itice 281$ 

The  Waste  Places James  Slephcns.. 28i() 

The  Warrior  Mnid Anna  Uttnpsleai  Braaih 2821 

TheSongsof  Gutbrum  and  Alfred.... Ci/hTfATdJACAeilrrfgii 2623 

Tlie  Pa«eant  of  Seamen May  Byten 2827 

The  Ballad  of  East  and  West Rudyard  KipHng 1830 

The  Maid Theodore  Saberls J834 


ixviii  Table  of  Contents 


The  Noble  Nalure BenJoasm j8j6 


SveetaiKl  Sour. Edmund  Speusfr 1S3J 

On  the  Life  of  Man Henry  King 2837 

All  is  Vanity Piilip  RossrJer 2838 

Times  Go  by  Turns Robcrl  SmUkedl 1938 

"Say  not,  Ihc  Struggle  Naught  AvaiE- 

eth" Arthur  Hugh  ClMtik jRj^ 

Kyridle John  Payne ia4<> 

"Let  Me  Enjoy" Thomas  Hardy 1841 

Song. "  Because  the  rose  must  fade".  .Pichard  Walim  Cildrr 2841 

"Where  Runs  the  Rivet" Francis  Williain  BBurdillan .    1841 

Sclf-Dependence Matthew  Arnold 2843 

Hope  and  Fear Algemim  Charles  STciiibiirHc,   i&u 

On  His  Blindness John  Milton 1S44 

Ozymandias  o(  Egypt Percy  Bysthe  Shrttty 1844 

A  Turkish  Legend Thomas  Baiiey  Aldriih 284s 

"Even  This  Shall  Pass  Away" Thtadore  Tiilai J84J 

Sesottris Lloyd  Miffin 2847 

Three  Sonnets  on  Oblivion Gfurge  Sleriinf 2847 

The  Mieic  Mirror Henry  UiUs  Aldn 2849 

Ebb  and  Plow George  Wiiiiam  Curtis jSio 

The  King  of  Dreams,. Clinton  SttUard 2850 

If  Only  the  Dreams  Abide Ctinlon  Scallard 2850 

New  Dreams  for  Old Cole  Young  Rice 185 1 

"Lord  of  My  Heart's  Elation" Bliss  Carman iBsi 

The  Higher  Pantheism A  Urtd  Tennyson 2851 

The  White  Peace Wiaiam  Sharp aSsi 

The  Mystic's  Prayer Wiaiam  Sharp 2814 

The  Play James  B.  Kenyan 2854 

TheWayfifet HHen  HmUnglon 28S4 

Bookra Charles  Dudley  Horner >8s6 

Into  the  Twilight ...WilHatn  Bullcr  Veals 2856 

Teals Lizeltc  WnedvHirlh  Scese j8s7 

Vers  la  Vie Arthur  Upson s8js 

Leaves Sara  Teasiale 2815 

Pre-Edstence Paul  Hamillon  Hayne 2854 

Envoy    from    "Songs    from    Vags- 

bondia" Bliss  Carman i8s8 

The  Petrified  Fern Mary  BoUes  Branch iRso 

The  Question  Whither George  Mcredilh »S6o 

The  Good  Great  Man Samurl  Taylor  Coleridge i860 

Human  Frailty William  Cowfer 2861 

Stanzas.  "Where  forlorn  sunsets  flare 

and  fade" William  ErnrsI  Henley 1862 

TheSreiters Join  Maiefidd 2863 

The  Beleaguered  Cily Hmry  Wadsiearlh  Longfiilaw  3863 

A  Doubling  Heart Adelaide  Anne  Procter j86j 

Vain  Virtues Danir  Gabriel  Rosselli 2866 

Evolution John  Banister  Tabb 1866 

Each  in  His  Own  Tongue WiUiam  lUrbaiCamOh 2B67 

The  Name Don  Marquis. 2868 

"In  God's  Eternal  Studios" Paul  Shirelt 2869 

Indirection Richard  KcalJ 2870 


Table  of  Contents 

A  Cnmmaruui's  Funeral Robtrl  Brvwnittg   zSri 

TheRnUiyitofOmarKhiivyini Eduard  Filaferald 3875 

TheKaMMah KUKotd  Franiis  Btulm jSBj 

CiudeuDiK  Igitur Jekn  Addiagtm  Symoitds.  U.  i8i)5 

LaurJEcr  Horalius John  Additulon  Symends,  Ir.  iSgli 

T\itCoaiiusaa(Atiit!'Vibiait1SaUa..Fred€Tic  RUfdyTBrraut...  iSin 

In  MemoriaiD Alfred  Tennyson aSgK 

Driflwood TnimbuU  Slkknry 2906 

"What  Ricbu  Have  You" George  Sanlayaaa zgo7 

"0 World" Ctarge Sanlayana mo? 

TIk  Rustic  at  Ibe  PUy (Jeerge  San/ayaua iqo8 

ToHasekawa. IValler  Conrad  ArfnOrrK jgoR 

Lire.  1  Question Carinne  SoasfTdl  KMnstm..  igct 

The  Eartb  ui(i  Man Stepferd  AufuslMi  Brooke.. .  aqoo 

Uexrvings Unknotai iqog 

"A  Little  Wotb" George  du  Maitrier 3910 

Man's  Days Eden  PkOI polls agio 

A  Little  WUle Don  liarqtiis igii 


TntwerVftB Thomas  Campim jgii 

Tile  Chambimd  Nautilus OliKt  IPrnddl  llolmex  .      .  2gi,{ 

APulmor  UCe llcnry  Wadaivrlk  Limgfrllmi  jgu 

EicdEJor. Iltnry  Wadsieorlk  Loitgfrikno  sgis 

The  Village  Blacksmith Ilcnry  Wadsmorlk  Lennlrliea  jgifi 

Four  Things Ilmry  Van  Dyie igiS 

Labor  and  Love lidmaad  Gossip   jgiS 

What  is  Good Jekn  Boyle  O'Kritlv 1018 

Failh Franca  An<K  Krmhit sgco 

A  Charge I itrbert  Trench jgig 

Tfrday Thomns  Carlyle 2gio 

"My    Days    Among   the   Dead   are 

pBKcit" Robert  Southty agjo 

Opportunity Jekn  James  Ingalls igii 

Opportunity tValler  MaJane jgii 

Opportunity FJ^ard  Rmdund  SiU. jgH 

The  Arrow  andtbe  Sonf-. . , //niry  Wadsworik  LengfeUoiB  sgi.i 

Calumny Frances  Sareriil  Osgood igi* 

The  Eflect  of  Eiamiile Jokn  Krble iqh 

Ijllleand  Great Chafes  Mactay igij 

The  Sin  of  Omis»on MargarrI  Sangster 1526 

The  Flower Alfred  Tennyson mn 

lianas F.mily  Brmli agiS 

Knfitude una  Wkeder  WScax igro 

Recompense Ninon  Watemum >n2(> 

TheLi^n  oE  the  Water-mill Sarah  Daudney agia 

Life George  llerberl agji 

BeTnse Iloralint  Bonar 3<>32 

TiFday l.ydia  Arery  Coonley  Ward.,  aw  J 

The  VaOcy  of  VaJn  Verses //mry  fan  Dykr w.w 

A  ThankscivinfT Willtam  Dean  BmorUs iqjj 

TbcLaiiy  Poverty Alice  Ueyntll lat-t 

The  Lady  Poverty Jacob  Fiscker !0J4 

dnracterof  the  HapTO"  Warrior WiUiam  Wordsworlk lOjS 

The  Great  Adventure Henry  Datid  Tkoreau 2gjT 

"He  Wbom  a  Dr«am  Haifa  Possessed  "Shaemas  0  Shed ig.iS 

Uastery Sara  Tcasdole 2g.i8 

A  Prayer Harry  Kemp igjg 

Prayer Lauii  Unlermryfr 2940 

Prayer  for  Pain John  G.  Neihardt 2940 

Carry  On! Robert  W .  Street 1941 


Table  of  Contents 

The  Fightinfc  Failure Evcrard  Jacit  ApfUltn IQ41 

The  Prayer  o(  Beaten  Men WUliiim  Hervty  Wmids 11944 

The  Last  Word if alikew  Arnold vm 

la  Victis Wmiam  Welmon  Sitry »94S 

"They   Went   Forth    to   Bitlle  but 

They  Always  Fell" Shmmas  0  SIkH IQ46 

The  Masters :Laurcnce  Unfit igtj 

The  Kings Leuiie  Imagtn  CuiHey igw 

Failures Arthur  UpsBH wso 

Don  Quixote Auslin  Debson 1950 

A  Prayer Jakii  DriHiaalcr igsi 

Battle  Cry JohnG.  Ncihardl sbsj 

RabLa Ja/nri  Frrman  Clarit i9Si 

The  Joyful  Wisdom CevenCry  Palmore ic>sj 

Ode  to  Duty William  Wordsavrlh IMS 

Chant  Royal  of  High  Virtue A.T.  Quilltr-Cimck >os7 

The  Splendid  Spur A.  T.  Quillcr-Coluk J9SO 

Sacrifice. Kaiph  Waldo  Emersim 3559 


Conscience Uenry  Dnid  Tkormu 1560 

My  Prayer Henry  Dand  Thartau agfii 

Induration Henry  DasU  Tlmrrau io6[ 

Each  and  All ...Ralph  Waldo  Emersaa ig6i 

Brahma Ralfk  Wildo  Eneriai 3064 

Bacchus Ralph  W aldo  EmersOH !g54 

The  Problem Ralph  Waldo  Emerson !g6fi 

Evening  Hymn William  Hmry  Eunuts ag68 

The  Higher  Good Theodore  Farkrr jq6o 

The  Idler Janei  Very 

Questionings Frederic  Henry  Hedge 

The  Great  Voices. Charla  Timolky  Brooks. 

Beauty  and  Duty EliesHaoptr 

The  Sttaieht  Road Ellen  Hooper 

The  Way Sydney  Henry  Mont 

Inspiration Satnucl  Johnson 

r  in  Thee,  and  Tbou  in  Me Christopher  Pearic  Craneh.. . 

(inosis Christopher  Prarse  Cramh... 

The  Future Edvard  Rowland  Sill .. 

Lovers  Lord. .Edirard  Dowden 3Q77 


Folly" Robetl  Greene 1970 

'llie  Means  to  Attain  Happy  Lite Henry  Homird 3979 

Kisinata Vnimrjm 2980 

A  Contented  Mind Joshua  Sytvesler 1980 

The  Happy  Heart Thomas  Dckter 1981 

The  Miller  of  the  Dee. Charles  .Harkay iqHj 

A  Philosopher John  Kmdriih  Bangs...  ....  3g8j 

The  Good  Day Henry  HoK-arlk  Bashfard... .  agSj 

"I  Saw  the  Clouds" Henxy  While 1984 

Coronatioii //rfrn  Hunt  Jackson 198s 

The  Character  of  a  Happy  Lite Henry  Walton 1986 

"My  Mind  to  Me  a  Kincdom  Is". .  .Edmird  Oyer igS? 

Written  at  an  Inn  at  Henley William  Shcnsione igS* 

Careless  Content, John  Byrom .  3989 

The  Golden  Mean .William  Couper aggi 

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Table  of  Contents 

"It's  Ain  Dtapo'  Dew" Jama  BailantiiH logi 

R«i|!natioci Waller  Sotase  Lander a^QJ 

"En  Vtyyaee" Coreliiu  Alvaltr  Mason. . . .    i^j 

Tbe  Happiest  Hesrt Jalia  Vame  Chnuy 1094 

Good-bye Ralph  Waldo  EmrrsoH !V)S 

Sapicntia  Lunic Enieit  Dmnun ipg5 

The  Beatia Wall  WliilmiHi 3096 

Immoral James  Oppaihtitii igQ7 

Di'ofcenes itax  Eashtmn 3007 

IiCBurc H'ffliaw  //.  'Datiri joqS 

PoorKinss .,, WiUiain  H .  Davits. 3goS 


Ralve Tkomat  Edvard  Brevm iqqo 

Abou  Ben  Adhem Ltigh  llurU 1900 

~    Envoy    from    "Men    Songs    fiom 

Va^abondia  " RUkard  Hatcy 3000 

Friends Edvard  VtrraU  Lueas 3000 

A  Friend Lietid  Joknioa 3001 

Rill  and  Joe ObW  Waiddi  Hiima jooi 

■As  Toibome  I  Wandered  Virginia's 

Woods" Widl  Wbilman 3004 

Gone Uary  E.  Ceieridge 300s 

CoDimdes Gterp  Ei-ward  Woodifrry,. .  3005 

Comrades Liitrid  JchnsBR 3006 

Comrades Laurence  Hausmait 3008 

Al  the  Crossroads Richard  Hmey jooo 

TwiKffht  Soni; EdwiK  Arti»sU>n  RebinsoH . .  joi  i 

The  Adventurem May  Byran 3012 

"Kamc  is  a  Food  thnt  Dead   Men 

Eat" Austin  Dobstm. .,,,.. 3013 

Jaiar LritkBunt 3013 

Counsel Mary  Etrlyn  Meorc  Davit...    3014 

To  a  Friend. Hartley  Celeridge.  -, 301S 

"Farewcl!,  hut  Whenever" Tliomat  iloore 301s 

"Awalte,  Awake" Joka  Rtiskin 3016 

The  Voice  of  Toir Wmiam  Morris 3017 

Tom  Dunstan Rabrrl  BuchaitaK 301S 

The  Common  Street Udm  Cray  Cone yat 

To  a  New  York  Shop-GiH  Dressed  tor 

Sunday Anna  nrmpilead  Branch.. . .  joai 

Saturday  Nirtt James  Opptnheim 3024 

Tbe  Barrel-Orsan Alfred  N ayes 3025 

Amanlium  Irac -,...-  .Richard  Hdwards 3031 

Oua  Cunmrn  Ventus Arthur  IlHih  (lnurh 3033 

"For  a' Thai  and  a' That" R>^rl  Bvmf. ,}OJ4 

"WcarcBrelhrena"' Roberl  Nicolt .3o,tS 

Fraternity John  Banistfr  TaM ,joj6 

Sonnet Henry  Timrod 3036 

Siellur Arthur  /lugh  ClouRh    3037 

Verses U'UUam  Cmel-er 3038 

"  Blow,  Blow,  Thou  Winter  Wind  "...  Wiliiam  Shahesptan ,5035 

TheHouscbytheRhJcoFlhcRoad.  ...Vain  H'ailrm'/'afi 3040 

The  Man  with  the  Hoc Edwin  Martham 3041 

TheManvriththeHoc,  aReply John  Vanct  Chatty 30.IJ 

The  SineinK  Man Jo.'^ephine  Pretim  Pcabody. .  304S 

"Scum  o' the  Earth" Robrrl  Itaven  Srhattffer 3053 

The  Second  Coming Narman  Gaie 3054 

The  Ni^ht  Court RaH  Comforl  M itekell . . .     .  30$$ 

The  Factories Margarel  Widdrmtr 3057 

Black  Sfa«ep Riihard  Burlou 3058 

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Table  of  Contents 

The  Dream-BeuET 

Sunday  BveninR  in  tlie  Conunon . 

Caliban  in  the  Coal  Mines Louts  uniermiyei.. .5059  ■ 

Landscapes .Louis  Uttltmeyer 3060 

Slupidily  Sireel Ralph  Hod/^sm ■, .  3061 

A  Troop  of  tiie  Guard lltmvmn  Ilagcdem jofi; 

Tlie  fiod-makcr.  Man Don  Marquis 30(15 

The  Field  oF  Glory Edvin  Arlintlm  Robinsm . .  iobj 

The  Conquerors Harry  Kemp jo68 

The  Anienal  at  Sprinefielil flenry  Wadstearlk  LoHg/cUme  jo6g 

The  Little  Sister  of  the  Prophet ilarjorie  L.  C.  PieklkUl 3071 

The  Sons  of  Martha Rudyard  Kipling 3072 

The  Tuf t  of  Floweis RiAtrl  ProsI 3074 

Mending  Wall Robrrl  Pros! 307s 

Forbearance Ralph  H'lilda  F-mmim 3076 


Israfel Edgar  Allm  Poe 3077 

Proem JohnGrtenltafWhiaiet. jojS 

Embryo Mary  Ashley  Yaivnseiid 307g 

The  Singer's  Prelude William  MarTis 3080 

A  Prelude Maurice  Thompson 3081 

On    First    looking    into    Chapman's 

Homer John  Kcals 3081 

The  Odyssey Andrra>  Lang 3083 

Homeric  Unity A  ndrew  Lang 3083 

"Enamored       Architect       of       Airj' 

Rhyme" Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich 3083 

Divina  Commedia Henry  Wadsawlh  Langfelloa  308.) 

"A    Man    Caliefl    Dante,    I    llavo 

Heard" Georgiana  Coddard  King.. . ,  3084 

The  Songs  I  Sing Charles  G.  Blanden 3085 

The  Dearest  Poels I.Ath  Uanl 3085 

False  Poels  and  True Thomas  Hood 3085 

A  Singing  Lesson Algernon  Charles  STHniuriK.  30K& 

Poetry Ella  Healh 10S& 

The  Inner  Vision ttilliam  Wordsscorlh 30S7 

On  an  Old  Song William    Ed-,card    Uarlpale 

Laky 3087 

To  Song Thomas  S.  Jonet,  Jr 308S 

Verse — "Pait  ruined  Ilion" Waller  Sarage  Landar 3081) 

An  Old-Fashioned  Poet Ada  Foster  Murray 308.1 

Poet  and  Ijirk Mary  Ainge  De  Vere 3080 

A  Hint  from  Henidi Thomas  Bailey-  Aldrich jogo 

To  the  PoBla. John  Reals 30110 

The  Progress  of  Poesy Thomas  Cray 301J1 

Seaireed Henry  Wadsivorlh  Limejrllaa'  309.1 

To  the  Muaes. William  Blake .loyft 

"Whither  is  rrt>ne  the  Wisdom  and 

the  Power" HarHey  Coleridge 3096 

The  Muses FMk  ilalilda  Thomas 3007 

Evoe! Edilk  Malilda  Thomas 3098 

An  Invocation WUliam  Joknson-Cary 30W 

Invention William  Walson 3100 

Joy  of  the  Morning Edwin  Markham 3100 

Cricket Clinlon  SioUard 3101 

To  a  Poet  aTbousand  Years  Hence. .   James  EIroy  Fleeter 3101 

ilie  Moods Fannie  Sleams  Davis 310a 

The  Pasiionate  Reader  to  His  Poet ..  Riekard  Lr  Gallienne 310J 

The  Flight  of  the  Goddess Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich 3103 

The  Sovereigns Uoyd  Mifflin 31OS 

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Table  of  Contents 

The  Argument  of  H[s  boot Raberl  Htrrick J105 

Envoy Rstai  Louii  Sinmsvn 3106 

Envoy Francis  THirmfism jio6 

The  Sonnet's  Voice TMeadiire  WaUi-DuHlm 3106 

The  Sonnet DaiUe  Gabrid  Riaselli 3107 

The  Sonnet Rkkard  Watson  Ciidtr 3107 

The  Sonnet Jelm  Addinglm  Symaidi . . .  3"* 

"Scorn  not  the  Sonnet" WUliam  WordsjeorlA 3109 

Vendor's  Song Aidaidt  Cra/iicy 3iop 

Thunderstorms WiUiam  II.  Dories 3110 

Genius  Lod Margara  Woods 3110 

The  Rondeau. Aitstiit  Dobstn. , . , . .  31x1 

Meltical  Feet Samufl  Tayler  Celetidce 311' 

Accident  in  Art Richard  llmcy 311a 

ASonKlorSt.  CedhVsDay Joint  Drydcn ,3111 

Aleiandei's  Feast Jokn  DrydcK 3114 

The  Passions WiUiam  Collins 31  ig 

To  Music  to  Becalm  iifa  Fcvrr Jtaberl  IJetrifk 3113 

A  Musical  Inslrumeat I-Jiiabtlh  Barrett  Uramtiiig.,    3114 

At  a  Solemn  Music Joht  Uitlon 3113 

With  >  Guitar,  to  Jane Percy  ByisheSkdUy 3136 

Ode — "We  are  tbe  rousc-maltcrs". .  .Atmar  O'Shaufkiicssy. .,  ...  3118 

Mimic. l-':dilh  UalUda  ThoKuu 3130 

On  Music Wailtr  Sacane  Landar 3 131 

Music  at  Twiligiit Cenrft  Slerliitg 3131 

The  Key-Board WiUiam  Wabim 313a 

ATocaltaorCaluppi'ii Reterl  Broumiiif 31.13 

-Aht  Vogter Roierl  Breiening. 3 1 ,15 

Hack  and  Hew liliss  Carman - . . , .  .3130 

Ars  Vidm AmUh  Dobson 3140 


Fancies John  Ford 3141 

Tom  0'  Bedbtn UttinowH 314a 

L' Allegro Join  UUlm 3143 

II  Penjeroso John  MUhm 3147 

Kiimeny Jaina  Hogg JiSt 

Kubia  Khan Samuel  Taylor  Celrndge 3160 

Hymn  o€  Pan. J'ercy  Uysske  Shdlry Ji6j 

Ode  on  a  GiTCian  Urn John  Keats 3163 

Ode  to  Pg^he ^0*11  Ktals 3 164 

To  Fancy John  Ktali ji66 

The  Haunted  Parace f-Jtar  Allan  Pot 31O8 

Tbf  Raven lidgar  Allan  Poe 3170 

The  Bdl5 Iid>:ar  Allan  Poc. 3174 

Tbe  Lotos-Eater? Allrrd  TatnyiiiH.. 3778 

ITyases   Alfrfd  Tennyion 317c) 

Mofte  D'Arthur Alfred  Ttmyjim 31  Si 

The  Lady  of  Shalolt Alfred  Tnmyson 318S 

Song  from  "Paracebus" Robert  Bnnmint. 3191 

The  Swimmers George  Slerling 3194 

The  Blessed  Damowl Danle  GabrirS  Rositlli 3iy8 

A  Sonn  of  Angiola  in  Heaven. Austin  Dobson 3101 

The  Hound  of  Heaven Francis  Thempson 3104 

Wilil  Eden ficflrw  Edwa/d  Woodberry. . .  3100 

The  ,\itec  City litigme  Filch  Wan. 3211 

Before  a  Statue  of  Achilles (leotge  .Samayana 3111 

"IFInnRmeHoundHim". ...RodenNod im 

Thepueen's  Song. James  Elroy  Flaker 3J14 

Baiki! Lascdhi  Aiercrtmbie iits 

The  Gales  of  Dreamland George  WilliaM  Russell 3116 

p.:hy  Google 

Table  of  Contents 

Edith William  EiUry  Cktmaimg.  .  .   an 

Tcnanlf Wilfrid  WUim  CibioB.   ....  3'"8 

The  ListeQEfs Waller  dt  la  Hart 3210 

■'CARE-CH.\RMER  SLEEP"     . 

Sleep /o*"  Flflehet 3130 

"Sleep,  Silence' Child" WHIiam  DrunnnoiiJ jaio 

To  Sleep William  Wordswrlh 3321 

Viii t/«iM0i™ 3121 

Sleep Jida  Louiii  Hariin 3111 

The  Quiet  Nishts,  , , Kalkarint  Tynan 3131 

The  Night ««<"""  SHIik 3"i 

O  Sleep Grate  Fallaa  NorlOH 3J14 

The  Whvf  ol  Dreams Edwin  Uarklnm 32*4 


"Hame,  Hame.  Hame" Allan  Ctmnisgliam. i7i6 

Home,  Switt  Home. John  llmtard  Faynt 3116 

My  OW  Konlurky  Home. SItpken  CoUins  Poller 3127 

Old  Folks  at  Uome ,  .Sicpkcn  Collita  Foslrr imS 

Home lH'Uliam  Emal  llmlty 3i2g 

Hot  Weather  in  the  Plains— India  TipfU. 3'30 

Heart's  Content. Unknmm 3231 

Song — "  Stay,  stay  at  home,  my  heart 

and  rest" Henry  Wadsmvlh Lengfrllirw  313! 

My  Eariy  Home Jakn  Clare 3233 

The  Old  Home Madisan  Cawem 3133 

The  Auld  House CaraHna  Nairnt 3234 

The  Rowan  Tree, Cardina  Naimc 3136 

The  Fire  of  nriftwooil Henry  WadoBorlh  Loiicfcllmp  3236 

My  Ain  Fireside Eli^akrlk  IJamitlnn 3238 

The  Ingle-Side //no  Aimlet 3330 

The  Cane-bottomed  Chair, Williani  UatrprMC   Thaik- 

"ny 3230 

Duna Mfarjorif  L.  C.  Ficilkall  ...   3241 

The  Old  Clock  on  the  SUirs Henry  Wad.'niiorlh  LmsftllmB  3242 

"Molher,  Home,  Heaven" WilliantGoldsmilk  Brinai..  .   3244 

The  Hero Ribirl  Nicall 3244 

The  Colter's  Salunlny  Night Raterl  Biant. 3246 

On  the  Reci-ipt  of  My  Motlwr's  Pic- 
lure.  Wittiam  Conper 3251 

The  Crowing  of  the  Red  Cork Emma  Latatut 3151 

The  World's  Justice F.,nma  Laiarm 3:55 

Dover  Cliffs Wiliitim  Lide  Bmeles 3257 

ThcBri.lse Frtdrrick  Pelersen 3257 

The  Eiile's  Song Kobcrl  CUfillan 3258 

"The  Sun  Rises  Bright  in  l''rancf". ,  .Allan  Cunninikam 3130 

Father  Land  and  Molher  Tongue, . .  .Samuel  Lotrr 3!sg 

The  Fatherland Jama  Rvsell  Lmtfll sifio 

The  Call  to  a  Scot Rulk  Gulhrit  Harding 3161 


The  Deserted  Village (Hiifr  Coldsinilh 3163 

The  Prisoner  of  Chillon Graree  Gordon  Byron 3173 

The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes John  Reals 3284 

Locksley  Hall A'fred  Tennyson 330S 

The  Scholar-Gipsy, MallheK  Ameld.. 3305 

Juggling  Jcny Cearse  Meredith 3313 


Table  of  Contents 

A  Court  I^y Elitabelh  Barrtll  Brmtmhtt. .  ais 

Tbe  HiKh  TJile  on  the  Coast  ol  Lin- 
colnshire  Jran  iHgdva jjiB 

TheSliclelon  in  Armor Hairy  WadnnBrlk  LoHifeUiia  33 Jj 

Daniel  Gray. Jesiak  Cilbtrl  HoOand. 3317 

"Curfew  Muit  not  Ring  To-nighL"...«o«i;ar(wiei  TliarPc 3JJ0 

The  Old  Sergeant Byrm  FBrrcylit  WOhim. . . ,  3331 

JimBludwof  IhePnOrieBell,. J  aim  Hay 3337 

Link  BrcecHcs Jolm  Hay 33jg 

The  Vagabonds Join  Tmnuend  TroiBbridtf..  jj4o 

Mow  We  Beat  tbe  Favorite Adam  LindMy  Cordai 3344 


"Death  be  not  Proud" John  Dmme, 3348 


Mehocbot; Jolm  FIttcker jj49 

On  Helancholy Johi  Ktals 3340 

The  Rainy  Day Hinry  Wadsaerlk  Lmtjdlaai  3350 

The  Precept  of  Klencc LiontlJolmsm 33Si 

"Moaa,  Moan,  Ye  Dying  Gales" Henry  Kerle. 33Si 

Sarrow Auirty  Tkomas  Dt  Vtrt 33SI 

Time  and  Grief WiOiani  hide  Bmda 33SJ 

Grief Elisaitlh  Barren  Brmning. .  3353 

Pain Si.  Jekn  Lucas 3353 

A  Fuewell A(fred  Tennyim 3354 

"Tbe  Day  is  Done" Henry  WadsKorlh  Lcng/rllmii  i3SS 

The  Bridge Henry  WadjMirlh  Len^cllaa  3336 

"My  Life  is  Like  the  Summer  Rose".  Rkkard  Henry  WUde. 3358 

"As!  L^e  A-Tbynkynge" Richard  Harris  Barkam 335^ 

The  Harp  of  Sofiow Elkd  Clifford 3360 

Tbe  Journey  Oowacds. Thomas  Moart 3360 

Song,"!  tiy  lo  knead  and  »pin" Louise  Imeien  Gtiiney 3361 

My  Sorrow Senmas  O'SuUiam 3361 

Spirit  of  Sadness Ritlard  Lr  CaUieniit 3361 

"1^  But  a  UltieFaded  Flower" Ellen  Clemmline  Birmir/k.. .  3363 

To  Each  His  Own Margarel  Jloet  Caniii 3363 

Song.  "Rarely,  rarely  ajmestlhou".  .Percy  Ifysske  ShfUty jj&4 

The  Nameless  One James  ClarBue  liastaa 336s 

"DeHortuisNilNiaiBonuin" Rkkari  Realf 3J&? 

Hope  and  Despair Lascdlcs  Abercrombie 3368 

Dejection:  An  Ode Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge. . . .  3j6g 

Work  without  Hope Samad  Taylor  Cvletidge ... .  3373 

Care. Virginia  Woodtaird  Cloud.. .  3373 

At  the  Salon Flereaa  Wilkinson  Et«ni.. .  3373 

The  Wind's  Way Grart  Hatatd  ConUini 3374 

Tropical  Town SaltmSn  dt  la  Seha 3374 

SuoKt  Wings Danle  Cabrid  Rosselli 3375 

Morality ^..lHallkm}  Arnold 3376 

Cui  Bono Tkomas  Carl:^ 3377 

MutaUlity Percy  Bysshe  Skdley 33J7 

A  Fancy  from  Fontenelle. AusliH  Dobson 3378 

"Oh.    Eariier    Shall    Ibe   Rosebuds 

Bbw" ft'Uliam  Jekntm-Cary 3378 

HieDove Joka  Kiati 3370 

The  Wbispereis WMfrid  WiUm  GOaan 3379 


Table  of  Contents 

..  3380 
-, 3381 

Endurance Elitabtfk  Aktrs 3381 

LarRl^  I^ne Rattrl  ButkoHan 3383 

The  Weakest  ThinR Elitabelk  BarrtU  BrwiUufi  ■ .   338S 

Song— "Weonly  ask focsunshine"..  .Helen  Hav  WMInry 3386 

The  House  of  Pain Florrncf  Earlt  Cealrs 3386 

Wii« Lice'le  Wooditorlkfifrse 3387 

•■Multum  Dilexil" llarlUy  Coleridxt 3387 

Pierctle  in  Memory WUIhm  Criffilk 3388 

"Wind  me  a  Summer  Crown" Mmella  Bute Smedley 3388 

To  the  Harpies, Arlkur  Dansen  Fiike 3j8g 

The  Bridge  of  Sigh* Themas  Hood 3300 

The  5tonfl  of  the  Shirt Tkamat  Hood 3393 

Stan«i3,   "In   n   drear-niBhted   De- 
cember".  Jokn  Kealt 330s 

The  Dead  Failh Fannie  Heaslip  Lra 3306 

The  Ballad  of  The  Boat RUIuird  Ganrtl 33(»6 

Eldorado Edgar  Allan  Par 3307 

A  Lost  Chord Adtlaide  AtiHt  Freeler 3398 

LiltleGray  SongsIromSt.  JOBeph'»..&o«/'jtf«rA'w/oi»   33» 

Birlhritiht JokH  Driiikwalcr. 3401 

Immortalin Darid  Uorron 3401 

Sonnets Jokn  Uasrfitld 3401 

Vitie  Summa  Brevi?  Spem  No?  Vctat 

Incnharc  Longam Fjmst  DoKsm 3404 

Death's  Final  Conquest James  Skirley 3404 

Death's  Kubde  Ways James  Shirley 3405 

Man's  Mortality Simon  WaileU 3405 

To  Death Auae  FiHck 3407 

The  Genius  of  Death CeorgtCraly 3408 

"Oh,  Why  Should  the  Spirft  of  Mor- 
tal be  PriHid" William  Knox 3401) 

The  Hour  of  Death Felicia  Dorolkea  Hemans 3411 

The  Sleep FJisabelh  Barrel!  BrovmiHg . .   341J 

Attad    Heberl  GUberl  Wibk 3414 

"Where  Lies  the  Und" Ankur  tluik  Cloufk 3414 

Up-hill Ckriitina  Ceertina  Rastelli. .    3413 

"The  Bourne Ckriilina  Ceorgirut  Kosietli..   3415 

The  Conqueror  Wonn FJfar  Allan  Poe 3416 

The  City  in  the  Sea Edtv  AUan  Pot 3417 

The  Reaper  and  the  Flowers Henry  Wadiworlh  LmsfeUnw  3418 

The  Closing  Scene Tkffmas  Buckanan  Sead 3419 

Mors  el  Vita., , Samuel  H'addinglon 3421 

"What  is  lo  Come", William  Emeil  Henley 3431 

A  Roundel  ol  Rest Arlkur  Symatu 3413 

"When  the  Most  iaSaid" Mary  Ainte  dt  Vert ,  3423 

The  Garden  of  Proserpine Algem«n  Cliarlei  Smnturnt.  3414 

The  Chanftinn  Road Kalkcrine  Im  Bales 3437 

The  Great  Miagivjin! William  Walsen 3418 

Hie  Dead  Coach Kalkarine  Tynan 3410 

t'Envd.  . Willa  Sibtrl  Calktr. 3415 

Death Flarenct  Fjule  Coalts 3430 

A  Dirge  Jokn  Webslrr 3430 

Diige  from  '■CymWine" W illiam  Skakcifeare 3431 

Dine  in  Cymbcline WiOiam  Collins 34jt 

Hallowed  Ground    Thamas  Campbell 3431 

The  Churchyard Robert  Buckanan . 3435 

TheOldChurcbyardof  Bonchurch. ..i'Mi>£ei(rjte  Uarsion, 3436 

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Table  of  Contents 

TheladnD  Burying-giouBd Pliilip  Freneau 3438 

God'a-Acre Henry  WoihiBarlk  LimttiUoa  3439 

The  City  of  the  Dead Riekard  Bartim 3440 

TheGanlen  that  I  Lore Flortnce  L.  Bendtrsvn 3441 

TleOldSexlon. Ptrh  BaijamiH 344' 

The  Two  Villages Kas*  Ttrry  Coakt 344a 

Daybreik HiHry  Wadneerlk  Im/JtUwit  3443 

Th^oBtopiis WHtiam  Cvliai  Brynnl 3444 

The  Dance  of  Death.. AusHa  Dutian 3446 


The  Lie Walter  RtUigh 3440 

Hii  Pilnrinuee WaUer  Rtdrigh 3451 

The  CoDduiiion. WaSler  Raliitk 34S3 

Deal  h's  SunuDons Thomas  Naslii 3453 

Hii  WiRding-Sheet Raitrl  Herrick 3454 

A  Prayer  in  the  Prospect  of  Deiilh...«o*<r(  fliinu 34SS 

Song  of  tbe  Silent  Land Henry  Wadsverlk  LoHg/tUim  3451^ 

Kie. WtOiam  Ciiitm  BryoMl 3457 
ve,  Hme,  and  Death Fredtrick  Latkir-Lampitm . .    345H 

A  Wbh UaltkeiP  AmM 34S9 

Neirt  of  Kin Ckristiiia  Grorgiiia  RestrHi. ,    3460 

A  Better  Resurrection Ckritlma  Cea^ina  RossnH..   3461 

The  Summer  b  Ended ChriitinaGetrgitt*  Rmetli..   346a 

A  Little  Parable Anne  Rent  Afdriek 3461 

My  Cross ZUdlaCcckt 34*3 

In  tbe  Hospital Mary  Woelirj  Ilniand.  . . .   3463 

When Sarah  Chmmtty  Waettey.. . .  3464 

"Ei  Libri«" Arlhur  UpiM 3466 

In  EitremiB Gtartt  Slerlmi 3466 

inning HeUn  HunlJacbson 3467 

"SomeTipteal  Eve" Listie  Clark  Hardy 346S 

Night. T.W.Raltestim. 3460 

Afterwards VielttFaM 3460 

A  nundted  Years  to  Come WiUiamGalSsinilk  Brtun.   .  3470 

The  Last  Camp-fire Sharlm  if.  Hatt 3471 

InleHude Etta  Wheeler  Wilcox 3472 

The  One  Hope. Danli  GaMel  RotstUi 3473 

Tbe  Ijmpin  the  West EJia  Hig^nsen 3473 

The  Dying  Rescrvint UaurUe  Baring 3474 

"If  Love  verejestetat  theCourtof 

Death" Frederic  Latrrence  Kntlfla, .  3474 

Constann UiiHir  Walien 3473 

The  Wild  Ride Louise  Imogen  Guiney 3475 

"IWoaldnotLivcAlway" Wmiam  Auguihis  H«hlen- 

Traveller's  Hope Charhs  Groi^e. Mli 

Scaled  Orders Richard  Burial 3478 

Soni,  "I  makemy  ihroud" Adtlaide  Crafiry 347S 

A  Song  of  Living Amelia  J axphine  Burr 3475 

Compensatioo Paul  Lavrmec  Duniar 3479 

The  RenssionBl Ckgrla  G.  D.  Raderls.  3480 

Moantain  Song Harriet  Monroe 3481 

To  M.  E.  W GiliM  Keith  Cheskrten 34S1 

Returning Ruth  Gulhrit  Harding 348a 

"OWorld,  benotSoFair" Grate  Paltm  Norm 34S3 



Table  of  Contents 

"OhMayl  JainlheChatrInv]iilile".&<»x<  £UM 3485 

Last  Unes. Emily  Brmic 3486 

LausMtntk. Ftcderic  Laaraia  KnawUt. .  3487 

"Wben  I  Have  Feats" JohH  Ktait j<88 

Last  Sonnet JekaKeals i48g 

The  Dying  Christian  to  His  Soul. . ,  Maaaia  Pott 3480 

"Berood  tbe  Smiling  and  the  Weep- 
ing"  Boralius  Bmtor i^qo 

"I  Strove  willi  None" Walirr  Savage  Landot 3401 

Death Watttr  Savagt  Landor 3451 

Life Ataus  Ulitia  BarhatM. 3401 

Dying  Hymn Alia  Cory, 34Q3 

In  Harbor PaulllaBiillm  Ilaytu 3403 

The  Last  Invoration. Walt  Wkilnan 3454 

"Direst  Thou  Now,  O  Soul" Wall  Whilmait 3404 

Woitinn Joka  Burrncks 34gs 

In  the  Dark George  AmeU 34g6 

Last  Verses. Wiliiajn  MtUurweU 3496 

The  Rubicon WiOiam  tinier 3407 

WhenI  Have  Gone  Weird  Ways Jckn  G.  NeikanU   3408 

A  Rlwme  o(  Life CliarUi  Warren  SlodJari.. . .  3400 

"Thaktta!  Thalallu" Joseph  Braumin  Brmm 3490 

Re<fuieDi F.  Norreys  ConnrU 3500 

Invictus. William  EmtsI  HciiJey 3500 

"A  Lat«   L»ik  TwitlccB  from   the 

Quiet  Skies" WUtiam  Ernest  Bcnley 3301 

"In  After  Days" Austin  Dobioit 3SOJ 

"Call  Me  Not  Dead" Richard  WalsonCiUtr 3502 

EiMlogue  Irtan  "Asulando" Ratert  BrotBiting 3StJ3 

Crossing  the  Bar Alfred  Tennyson 3504 

L'Envoi Radyerd  Kiplinc 3504 

Envoi John  G.  Nrihardi 3505 

Greek  Folk  Song Uargard  Widdaner 3306 

"When  I  am  Dead  and  Sislci  to  the 

Dust" Elsa  Barker 3306 

A  Parting  Guest Jama  Wkiicomb  Riley. 3507 

The  Stirrup  Cup John  Hay 3507 


Friends  Dnarteil Utnry  Vaughan 3508 

"Over  theKivcr" Naney  Woodbury  Priest.. . . .  3Sog 

Resignation. Henry  Wiidsaorlh  Longfellow  3S'o 

Afterward EiisAelh  Slaart  Phelps  Ward  351a 

Sometime May  Riley  Smilk 3513 

"The  Mourners  Came  at  Break  of 
Day" Sarah  Flower  Adams 

What  of  The  Darkness? Richard  le  CaUietme 

A  Sea  Dirge William  Shatctfeare 

Epitaphs Ben  Jonsan 

Song  from  "The  Devil's  Law  Quic  " . .  John  Wtbsler 

On  the  Tombs  in  Westminster Francis  Beaumont 

Epitaph  on  the  Connlesa  Downger  of 

PembrtAe William  Braame 

An  EiHtaph  Intended  for  Himself. . .  .James  Bealtie 

Lycidas /"*»  MiUon , 

To  the  Pious  Memory  of  the  Accom- 
rJished  Young  Lady,  Mrs.  Anne 

Killigrew John  Drydtn 3S14 

Heraclilus William  Jokmon-Cory 3519 

Elegy  to  the  Memory  of  an  Unfor- 
tunate Lsdy Alexander  Pape. jS3o 

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Table  of  Contents 

Efegy  Written  in  a  Counhy  Churcb- 

yan) Thomas  Cray .1S3i 

The  Settlers Laurence  II ouiman 3536 

"He  Bringetb  Tbern  Unto  Tbdr  De- 
sired Haven" L.  Frank  Tookn 3S37 

In  tbe  Lilac-rain Eiilk  lialUda  Thtmas 3539 

ADnwt  Marcb Cesmo  MonkliBuse 3540 

Tommy's  Dead .' Sfdney  DebtU 3541 

In  Memoriani ;, Richard  Moncklen  Uiiius...  354; 

Her  Ep'taph Themai  William  Farseni, . .  3S4S 

TheEteilh  Bed ^ Tktmai  Heed 3546 

Hester.. Charlti  Lamb 3S47 

"Softly  Woo  Away  Her  Breilh". ,.  .flryiw  Waller  Procter 3548 

A  Deatb-Bed _ Jamn  Aldrich 3548 

"SheniedinBeiuty" Charlts  Doyne  SiUery. 3348 

"The  White  Jeaumine John  Baniiltr  Tabb 3549 

Early  Death HarlUy  Colrridfe 3350 

The  MosE-Kose Uenry  NeoMt 3S5o 

"  "  Jamil  Thamim 3551 

Fdii.ia  Dorothea  tiemant 3551 

Uarjarie  L.  C.  PidOhaU. . . .  SSS' 

Willtr  Bynner 3SS3 

BarryKemp 3353 

CtinloH  Scellard 3SS3 

Frederick  Locker-Lampion . .   3354 

Elitabak  Barrclt  Brmviins.,    3555 

MarjoruL.C.PicklhaU....  3558 

Elhtl  Clifferd 3SS0 

Jine  BarUnv 3360 

Charles  G.  Blanden 3560 

. Allan  CunniHiiam 3561 

^  .Fdida  Dorothea  Uemans., . ,  356( 

-     ■      -  .   356i 

-  3SH 

.  , .  ^ .  n  uiiam  tr  oranoona , 3566 

Barlholonae  Doaliui 3566 

Danle  Gabriei  Russetli 3368 

H'iUian  Barnes jsSg 

Mary  Uapes  Dodec 3570 

Forever JeliH  BoyU  O'RciUv 3371 

Now  and  Afterwartls. Dinah  Maria  HulakCraii.  337* 

■■Now  the  Laborer's  Task  isO'er".. .  .Jolm  Ledge  Eiltrlan 3373 

Love  and  Death Margaret  Deland 3574 

Van  Elsen Fredrrick  Gtwii  ScoU 3374 

TheniBht Uoyd  Uiffin 3373 

Ripe  Grain Dora  Kred  Gooddlc 3573 

■TTic      I^nd      Which      No      One 

Knows" Ebeneier  EUiaU 3376 

The  Hills  of  Rest Albtrl  Bigdoa  Paine 3577 

At  the  Top  of  the  Road Charles  Buxton  C»ing 3377 

Shemuel. Edward  Baara 35j8 

She  and  He _. Rdteiii  Arnold 3375 

After  Death  in  Arabia Edain  Arnold 33S1 

To  the   Eart   of  Warwick,   on   (he 

Death  of  Mr.  Addison Thomas  Tiehdl 3384 

The  Eagle  that  is  Forgotten Vachil  Lindsay 3S87 

Elw.ic  Stanzas William  Wordsworth 3S87 

Ullliam  Blate James  Thomson 3SSg 

Edwin  Booth Alice  Brmva 3Sgo 


Table  of  Contents 

Crnerol  William  Booth  Enters  Into 

Heaven Vachtl  Lindsay jsoj 

E.  B.  B. Jama  TkomiBn ,1504 

Robert  Bums William  Alexandir 3545 

On  a  Hy-lpaf  o(  Burns's  Songi Frtdirii  Lamtnti  Knaalfs. .  3S96 

On  the  Dealhs  of  Thotnas  Carlyle  and 

Geonte  Eliot AlgrrnaH  Ckarlrt  Swinhitntt.  350* 

At  the  Grave  tJ  Champemowne Jahn  Albre 3597 

The  Opening  of  the  Tomb  of  tharle- 

magne Autrey  dt  Vrre. 3507 

By   the  Statue  of  King  Charlet  at 

Charing  Cross Lienrl  Jtlmsim 3SoS 

Chavez MUdred  UcNeal  Swtmey. . .  3fioo 

Coleridfte Tkeedore  Waia-OwKbrn a*"! 

Cowper'9  Grave EiitabelH  BamU  Braufiiui .  .  ^Ooi 

On  a  Bust  or  Dnnle Thonai  William  Parians. . .  3604 

Dickens  in  Camp Bret  11  arte 3606 

Drake's  Drum Hairy  Nn^olt 3007 

On  the  Death  of  Joseph   Rodman 

Drake Filt-Crrtnt  tialleck 360S 

"Oh,  Breathe  Not  His  Name" Tlumas  Uoort 3iSo« 

Vanquished Fronds  Fiilitr  Braume jliog 

O.Henry VacM Lindsay. 3610 

Adooais Ptrcy  Byssht  SkeUey 361  j 

To  the  Sister  of  Elia Wi^tr  Sasate  Landar 3615 

In  Memotyol  Walter  Savage  Landor.j4/ffnii>n  Charles  Smnbume.  3O16 

On  the  Death  o(  Mr.  Robert  Uvet,  .  .SamiH  JohnioH,. .: 3O18 

'■O  Captain?  My  Captain" Wall  H'kilmaK st>iQ 

"When  Lilacs  Last  in  the  Docoyard 

Bloomed" Wall  Whitman 3630 

Lincoln,  the  Man  of  the  People Edwin  Markham 36^0 

The  Master Ednrin  ArlintlaH  Sabiitsaii. .  3040 

On  the  Life-Mask  of  Abraham  Lin- 
coln  Richard  Walsen  GiUtr. 3641 

Abraham  Lincoln Tom  Taylor J&41 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow AhsUti  Dobson 3045 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots C.  Tertnysen-Tiiriitr 3O46 

The  Angelus Florence  Earlt  Coales 3*146 

Under  The  Portrait  of  ^[ilIon John  Drydrn 3*147 

In  Memory  of  ■'Barry  Cornwall".. .  .AlgtnuM  Charles  S-winhurnr.  3<)47 

In  Memoriam .F^win  Arnold 3'i48 

To  the  Memory  of  My  Beloved  Mas- 
ter William  Shake^>eare Bf»  Jtnsoa 3f)so 

On  the  Portrait  of  Shakespeare. Brn  Jensen 3(151 

To  Shakespeare Hartley  Caleridfe 3^5' 

Shakespeare .UallheiB  Arnold S&SJ 

An     Epitaph      on      the     Ailmirable 

Dramatic  Poet.  W.. Shakespeare.,.. yo*«W*«i 3651 

To  William  Sharp Clinton  Scellard 3O54 

An  Ode  on  the  UnveilinR  of  the  Shaw 

Memorial Thomas  Bailey  Aldrick 3655 

Memorabilia Roberl  Brovnmn 3637 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson Liulle  Woodieorlh  Reese ....  j6s7 

Bayard  Taytor  John  Greenleaf  Whillier. 3653 

Lacrims  Musarum William  Watson 365^1 

Tennyson Thomas  Henry  HuxUy jtiGi 

For  a  Copy  of  Theocritus. Auilin  Dobsen. . , 3664 

Theocritus Oscar  Wilde 3664 

The  Quiet  SinRer Charles  Hanson  Towna 3665 

Thoreau's  Flute Louisa  May  Akaa 3667 

Ave  Atque  Vale Thomas  S.  Jems.  Jr. 3668 

The  Warden  of  tlie  Cinque  Ports. . .  .Henry  Wadswrtk  Loni/dlmB  3670 


Table  of  Contents 

Tilt  Sew  Jemsalem. . 

Ode  oo  Ihe  Death  of  the  Dake  at 

WdliiMrtim , Alfred  Tcnayinn 3672 

Memorial  Verses.  . MaUkem  Arnold 3680 

Wordsworth's  Crave WOliam  Watson 3681 


....  Jekn  ilasoti  Neali. 3680 

Unknoam 3603 

Henry  Vaushan 36g5 

Paradise Frederick  William  P^>er jftgs 

The  World Umry  Vavgkan 3696 

Tbe  White  Island Rabtrt  Uerriek. 3608 

"This  Worid  is  all  a  Fleeting  Show",  .Thomas  Moore 3699 

The  Land  o'  tbe  Leal Carotina  Nairn 360(1 

Heavenward Carolina  Saime 3700 

"Kelt  i»  Not  Here" Carolina  Sairne 3701 

At  Home  in  Heaven James  Monltomery. 3701 

PiTidise Christina  Gmrsina  Rostelli. .  3705 

''Heaven     Ovoarchea     Earth     and 

Sea" Christina  Ceoriina  RoneUi..  3706 

TV  Sansct  City Ilmry  Sytvesltr  Cartmtll 3706 

Gndatim Josiak  COIktI  Holland 3707 

The  Other  World Ilarriel  Beechcr  Slowe 3     " 

My  Ain  Countiee Mary  Lee  DemaresI 3 

Hone Sdaard  Soaiaiid  Silt 3 

Ctiartless. Emily  Dickinson 3 

"It  Cannot  Be" DoiU  Banis  Stckeb i 

AThank^vinglofiodforIli»Ho«ae..*ofter/flemc* 3 

The  Shepherd  Boy  Sinjts  in  the  Valley 

o(  Hnnitiation John  Btinyan 3 

Ttw  Pilgrim JahnBunyan 3 

"The   Bin),    Let    Loose  in   Eastern 

Skis" Thomas  Moore 3 

•■HeUrahLon«whoUvethWeU"..//i»a'ii«Bo(w. 3 

The  MaUer's  Touch Iloralius  Bonar. 3 

Ho»  We  Leam IIoroHus  Bonar 3 

Love. Ctorp  Herbert 3 

The  CtJlar George  Herbert. 3 

Yirtoe Geerie  Herbert j 

DiKiplifie George  Herbert 3 

Holy  Bapttsm Ceergt  Herbert 3 

UnldtKbicaa Geerge  Herbert 3 

Prayer Richari  Craskaw 3 

— Piwrideow ReginaU  Heber 3 

The  Beloved Kalketvu  Tynan 3 

HyL^Lcy Haen  Hunt  Jackson 3 

The  Surry  Host John  Lameasler  Spalding 3 

The  Celestial  Surgeon Robert  Louis  Stevenson 3 

Tlie  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life ....  Theodart  Parher 3 

Tbe  IfuetUgbt Frederic      Wiliiam      Henry 

Ilettdity Lydia  Avery  Coanky  Ward..  3 

Brii«ing  Our  SlMavei Silabelh  Aiers 3 

Tike  Heart     Edna  Dean  Proclor 3 

Forvanl  Edna  Dean  Proctor 3 

'■The  HarveM  Waiu" Uoyd  MigiK 3 

One  Gift  I  Ad: Virginia  Bioren  Harrison. . .  3 

Macdalea  Henry  Kittgiley 3 

CefsWiD Uildred  IlontUs 3 

Mta  the  Martyrdom Seharmei  Iris 3 

Hm  Burial  o(  Mows CecU  Fnmas  Alexander 3 


Tabic  ot  Contents 

The  Croofccrl  Footpath Otiter  WrudtS  Ualma.    ...  3 

Allah's  Tent AHkur  Callm 3 

Kl.  John  BaplLil Arlkur  O'Skmuslmessy 3 

For  ihe  Baptist WUliam  Dntmmani 3 

"The  Spring  ia  Laic" Louiie  Cktndla  MmUUx.  . .  3 

The  (Jucstton KatU  AnHnd  Taylor 3 

A  Divine  Rapture Fraud!  Quarks 3 

■'[[  1  Could  Shut  the  Gate  A«iun«t 

my  ThouRhts" Jtka  Diuid 3 

His  Litany  lo  Ihc  Holy  Spirit Robert  Htrrkk 3 

To  Keo)  a  True  Lent Raberl  Ilerrki 3 

The  Fallen  SUr Gcorgt  Datley 3 

"We  Need  not  Bid.  lor  Cloistered 

Cdi " Join  KeUe 3 

"A  Child  My  Choice" Reberl  UtiuJaeea 3 

An  Upper  Chamber Friutcet  Bamterwuit. 3 

The  Second  Crucifixion , .  .JtUkard  LtGaiiieniK j 

The  Voice  of  Christmas IlartyKtmp 3 

Te  Martyrum  Candidatus ,  Liemi  Johnson 3 

On  a  ScutptuTcd  Head  of  the  Christ. . .  MoUm  Ltoturd  fiiktr 3 

Good  KinK  Wencesks John  Neat 3 

Simon  the  Cyrenean Lucy  LyaltloH 3 

The  Winjted  Worshippers. Ckarlts  Spratue 3 

DeSheefrfol' SarokPraa McUaaGrenK..  3 

The  Lost  Sheep Elitabelh  Ctcilia  Clepiam:  .  3 

Lost  but  Found lloralius  Beaar 3 

Staina Thtodosia  Garrison 3 

A  Hymn  to  Gwl  the  Father. Joht  Damn j 

Sheep  and  Lambs. KalkariiK  Tynan .3 

"All's  Weil" .Waiiai*  Allen  Btalcr. 3 

Living  Waters Caroline  Spmccr. 3 

One  hy  One AJdaidf  Aane  Pracirr 3 

Unbelief JUitahelh  Vori  Can- 3 

"There  is  no  Death" John  Ltittey  ifcCrirry. . .    .  3 

The  Fool's  Prayer Mviard  Rowtaad  Sill. .  .  .     ,3 

The  EcHpse Henry  Vaughan 3 

Comfort Klit^lk  Barrell  BraaiUng. .  3 

Si.  Annes'  Eve Alfred  Tennyson 3 

His  Banner  Over  Mc Grrald  Uasiey 3 

Je«us  the  Carncnter CalHariatC.  LidMl.. ....    .  3 

■'ISawThee'' RayPaimer.. 3 

The  Veteran  of  Heaven FtancU  Thompson 3 

Ludfer  in  Starlight .Gtorge  Mertiilk 3 

KoraChrisli ., Alia  Brom j 

Chriatus  Consolator ...Rossiltr    WorMnglon    J&iy- 

That  HnlyThinK. Gtornr  Uaedonaiil.. . .    .       ■,  3 

What  Christ  .Said Georfr  UacdonalJ, 3 

SanLorensoGiustiniuni'sMothcr..  .  .:4J(crr  M(ywy/ ,, 

A  Ballad  of  Treesand  the  Master. .Sidney  Lanirr. 3 

The  Mystery Ralph  Hodgson. 3 


nicstr*    Abraham  Coles.  Ir 377, 

Slabat  Mater  Dolomsii Abraiawi  Coles.  Ir ,.  377Q 

Veni.  Bancle  Spiritus Catharine  Winhvarlh,  Ir.. .  37S0 

Vcni,  Creator  Splrilus   John  Dryden.  Ir 3782 

Stanio-i  from  "SonK  to  David" Christopher  Smart 3783 

No*  Nodi  Indicat  Scienliam WiUiam  n<Aintlo» 3786 

"The  Spacious  FirmamenlonHi5h",/oic^  Addison., , 3787 


'I'afate  of  Contents 

Cnivenal  Prajfr Altamier  Peft 3788 

'OGod.OurHelpinAgiMPast" Isaac  Walls.. 37«o 

"J«siia.Loverof  MySoui".. Ckarlts  Wesley. 3791 

"ACInrsetoKeepiHave" CkatUi  Wesley jTOi 

CoioaatioD , Bdwaid  Fenontl. 3751 

■Holy,  Holy,  Holy" Retinoid  HcUr 37OJ 

"The  Son  of  God  Goes  Forth  to  War"  Retwatd  Btber 3704 

"FromGreenland'BltyMoOiilains"..fej™iUffa4er 375S 

Lighl  Shining  Out  of  Darkness WUtitim  Cauper 3796 

•  Kak  of  Ages Augitslus  UmUague  T*fMy.  3797 

Love  to  the  Churcb. Timvlky  DitiglU 3707 

Good  Tidings  oF  Great  Joy  to  All 

Pcofje Jama  Mmtitmery. 375(8 

Chiut  Onr  Example  in  Suflering ....  Jama  Utmlgomery. 3799 

"Just  as  I  Am" Charlollt  Eilioll 3S00 

"Blest  Be  the  Tie  that  Binds" Jolu  Famxll 3801 

"In  (be  Cross  ot  Christ  I  Glory" Jakn  Bewring 3*" 

"Abide  with  Me" Henry  Francis  Lyle 3B01 

The  Hour  o(  Peaceful  Rest WUtian  Brnfiam  Tappan . .  3803 

The  Pillar  of  the  Cloud John  Hrnry  NnamOH 3S04 

"Nearer  lo  Thee" .Sarak  Fleaer  Adams j8os 

'■A  Mighty  Fortress  isOut  God" Freileritk  Ilcnry  U/dce 3806 

Prayer  lo  the  Trinity James  Edmeslon 3807 

in  Sorrow ThBmas  Uasltngs jKoS 

"Juil  for  To-day" Sylnl  F.  Partridge. 3808 

Lovest  Thou  Me? William  CoKper 3800  - 

The  Voice  from  Galilee Heraltus  Benat jSio 

Failb Ray  Palmer 3810 

He  Standeth  at  the  Door. Artkur  Cleteland  Coxe jSir 

"There  is  a  Green  Hill" Cecil  Frances  Alexander j8ij 

Nearer  Home Pkatbe  Cory 3813 

"Onward,  Christian  Soldiers" Sabine  BartHt-Cauld 3814 

Evening GiargeWasliintlaitDeane.  . .  3815 

A  Dedication Rudyard  KipUng 3816 


Dies  In Temmiio  di  Celano jSip 

Slabat  Maler  Dolorosa Jaeapone  da  Todi 3811 

Veni,  Sancle  Spiritus Rabtrt  I ! .  of  France. 381J 

Veni,  Creator  Spirilus. St.  Grigary  Ik  Creal  {/)....  jSij 

VrbsSyon  Aurea ^  . . .  Bernard  oj  Cluny 3814 

Urbs  Beala  Hierusolem Vnksovm 3SiC> 

Vivamus.  Mca  Lesbia Gains  ViJtriits  CaDiUus 3817 

PersicosOdi OuiHlus  Horalius  Flacius. , .  3827 

InletKr  Vilx. Quinlus  Horalim  Flaccus. . .  3818 

Rfctius  Vives (hiinlus  Uoraliia  Flaccns. . .  381Q 

De  Brcvitsle  Vitx Urikivrm 38J9 

Lauriger  Horatius Unktuiait 383 1 

En  Feste  BurR Martin  Lutker 3831 

Lied,  "Ins  slille  land" Jokann  Gaadent  vdh  SiUis- 

Serais 3831 

Die  Wacbt  am  Rbein Max  Scfmcckenburger. 3833 

DcsDcutschen  Vaterland Binil  Mtriti  Amdl 3834 

La  Maracillaise. ClaKdeJosepkRinigelde  Lists  3836 


Table  of  Contents 

Ballade ries Dames du Temps Jadis...Frriiivi>u  Villm jSj7 

BalUdc  de  Fr6rc  Lubin Clfmenl  Uarel jBjS 

Lc  Grenier. . .' Pierre-Jean  de  BitaKger. . . .  38JI) 

Le  Roi  d'Vvelot Piare-Jean  de  Btranger. . .-.  jSjo 

Fantaisie. Glraidde  Nenal j&j! 

L'Art ...Thtafihiie  Gamier..- 3841 

Carcassonne. , Guilace  Nadaad 38^1 

Hassgesang  Gcjien  England EmH  Liisauer 3S46 

Index  or  Authors 3&ig 

Imdex  of  Fmsr  Lines jqij 

Index  or  Titles 3575 

p:hy  Google 


D,g,t,7P:h»  Google 


Four  Seasons  fill  the  measure  of  the  year; 
There  are  four  seasons  in  the  niitul  of  man: 
He  has  his  lusty  Spring,  when  fancy  clear 
Take^  i^  ^  beauty  wjth  an  easy  span:     ...         , . 

He  has  his  Summer,  when  luxuriously 
Spring's  honeyed  cud  of  youthful  thought  he  loves 
To  ruminate,  and  by  such  dreaming  high 
Is  nearest  unto  Heaven:  quiet  coves 

His  soul  has  in  its  Autumn,  when  his  wings 
He  furleth  close;  contentt-d  so  to  look 
On  mists  in  idleness^to  lel  fair  things 
Pass  by  unheeded  as  a  threshold  brook: — 

He  has  his  Winter  too  of  pale  misfeature, 
Or  else  he  would  forego  his  mortal  nature. 

John  Ktals  (1795-1811] 



"ONLY  A.  BABY  SMALD"'        'i 

Only  ^  baby  ^mali,  ,j  .    ^^^.^ 

Dropped  irom  the  stiea. 
Only  a.  laughing  face, 

Two  sunny  eyes; 
Only  tWo  eherty  lips. 

One  cbub}>y  aqs«i  . . .  >.  i  " 
Only  two  lUUe.hiMMls,  i         i 

Teniittliat»es..  , 

Only  a  golden  head, ' 

Curly  an((sofi;  '  "  .  "  '■ 
Only  a  tongue  that  wags 

Loudly  and  oft;'  ■.  ■.'; 
Oh)yftlitbb,lmuti, ,  .  ,       - 

Emptyof;(llOugbti  .  ,  -: 
Only  a  little  b<Brt,    ..       ,,/i 

Troubled  with  saught.  .  | 

Only  a  tender  Bower  ' 

Sent  U3  to  rear; 
Only  a  lite  to  love 

While  we'dre  Here; 
Oidy  a  babysEiidlt 

Never  at  rest;  .,        ,       -     _       ., 
Small, buthowdeajtous;  _     ,  ^^ 

God  knoweth  best. " 

...  ,.       .  MalAuis  fi^i  li,&ti~: /I 

SoMETBlNG  to  live,  for  came  to  thepl^c^,  ^^^  ., 

Something  to  die  for  maybe. 
Something  togivela«n!  sorrow  »j«r*a,    ■jii// 

Andyetit'MAxmlT'jRh^l.:.'.    .  i^..,.,i  ! 


poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Cooing,  and  laughter,  and  gurgles,  and  cries, 

Dimples  for  tenderest  kisses. 
Chaos  of  hopes,  and  of  raptures,  and  sighs, 

Chaos  of  feats  and  of  blisses. 

Last  year,  like  all  years,  the  rose  and  the  thorn; 

This  year  a  nildemesG  maytie-, 
But  heaven  stooped  under  the  roof  on  the  morn 

That  it  brought  them  only  a  baby. 

Barriet  Prescoll  Spcjord  [1835- 


"I  HAVE  no  name; 
I  am  but  two  days  old." 
What  shaU  I  call  thee? 
"I  happy  am, 

Sweet  joy  befall  thee! 

Pretty  joy! 

Sweet  joy,  but  two  days  <Jd. 

Sweet  joy  I  call  thee; 

Thou  dost  smile, 

I  sing  the  while; 

Sweet  joy  befall  theel 

WUliam  Blait  [1757-1817] 


From  ■-  At  tlK  Buk  of  tiM  SatUi  Wind  " 

Where  did  you  come  from,  baby  dear? 
Out  of  the  everywhere  into  the  here. 

Where  <Md  you  get  those  eyes  so  blue? 
Out  of  the  sky  as  I  came  through. 

What  makes  the  light  in  them  sparkle  and  spin? 

Some  of  the  starry  spikes  left  in. 

Where  did  yoa  get  that  little  tear? 
I  found  it  waiting  when  I  got  here. 

p:hy  Google 

To  a  New-bom  Baby  CMrl  ,5 

What  makes  yoorfoiefaecul  ao  amagtb  add  lUghi* 
A  soft  hand  stroked  it  aa  I  went  by. 
What  makes  your  cheek  like  a  warm  white  rose? 
I  saw  something  better  than  any  one  knows. 
Whence  that  tbiee-comered  smile  of  bliss?- 
Three  angels  gave  me  at  once  a  kiss. 
Where  61d  you  get  this  pearly  eat? 
God  spoke,  and  it  came  out  to  hear. 
Where  did  you  get  those  arms  and  hands? 
Love  made  itself  into  bonds  and  bands. 
Feet,  where  did  you  oraae,  you  dadiog  tbin|p? 
From  the  saoie  box  as  tlie  ch^ubs'  wings. 
How  did  they  all  just  come  to  be  you? 
God  thought  about  me,  and  so  I  grew. 
But  how  did  you  come  to  us,  you  dear? 
'God  thought  about  you,  and  so  I  am  here.    ,     .  :  ,  >; 
Garsc  MaedonM  (1S14-1D05] 

And  did  thy  sapphire  shallop  slip    ', 
Its  moorings  suddenly,  to  dip 
Adown  the  dear,  ethereal  sea      .    , 
From  star  to  star,  all  silently? 
What  tenderness  of  archangeb 
In  silver  tbrilling  syllables 
Pursued  thee,  or  what  dulcet  hymn 
,_  Low-chanted  by  the  cherubim? 
And  thou  departing  must  have  heard 
The  holy  Mary's  farewell  word, 
Who  with  deep  eyes  and  wistful  smQe 
Remeinbered  Earth  a  little  while.  .,' 
Now  iioDi  the  coasts  (tf  momiilg  pide 
Comes  safe  to  pott  thy  tmj!  sajli 
Nov  hxTe  we  seen  by  eady  sun,. 
Thy  mirade  of  life  begun. 
AU  breathing  and  aware  thou  art.   . 
With  btwty  toiqiled  m  tl^  hout :. 


~S  \  Pmrni  df  Youth  xbd  A^ 

'.'  TdlettbeMrecogriue-UmlhriU/  -  r    .7 

Of  wings  along  (at.  amire  fall,    -        '•.:'.■,<.'. 
.AndieMwithin  the  hollow  sky  ,  |,,  ., 

Thy  ;friends  the  angels  rushing  by.  '  'i 

These  shall  recall  that  tliou  hast  known' 
Their  distant  country  as  thine  own,   ■      ■  '' 
Toapare'tbec  word  of  vale*  and  5t»ean»,i-  ■ 
Andpubliaiheav«itlmxighjtiy,4TW^>»-  ,.' 
The  human  aocenU  of  the  breese  ,    .,;   |    ,, 
Through,  ^waying  star-acquainted  tre«     _    . 
Shall  seem  a  voice  heard  earlier, 
Her  voice,  the  adoring  sigh  of  her, 
■  Whtti'thou  amid  rosy  cher(d>fter     ■    i'   I 
Didst  hear  her  call  thee,  far  aw»j»,   •':   '■- 
And  dream  in  very  Paradise  _  ■  i 

The  worship ol  thy  mother's eyea,  ,    ■    i„,  , 
Grace  Hazard  Coniling  [18 


'■<■■■■•  tN  HER  CRADLE 

YfH0is^liere,thftt.Jiowl9ee,  ,   , 
This  dainty  new  di.vinity,  , 

Love's  sister,  Venus'  child?  'She  shows 
Her  hues,  white  lily  and  pink  rose,  ^' 
And  in  tier  laughing  eyes  the  snares 
That  hearts  entangle  unawaris. 
Ah,  woe  to  men  if  Love  should  yield 
His  arrows  to  this  gir!  to  wield       '[^ 
Even  in  play,  for  she  woifld  ^ve  '    ' 
Sore  wounds  that  hpAe  might  take'ffnd  live. 
■Yet'no  such  wanton  jtrain  ts  hers" ', 
Nor  lieda's  child  and  Jupiter's         ' 
'is  sh'e^  though  swans  no  softer  are 
Than  w^oni  she  fairer  is  by*  far. 
rtior^e-waGrbonibcside'the'Till '    v 
Thalf  ga^ieB  fratoiPumassiis'  bitt,'  ' ' 
Andby  tbb  brighu  Pierian  spring 
SheshallreneivaanoSerihgi.M   ■,  , 
Fromewefy  youth  Wbo  pipefiA:etTB)hi 
BetidBi!hisJockBi^iMttbe.pltiki.  I  // 


[  To  Liaye  fienfe 

But  I,  the  first,  this  very  day, 
Wm  tmt'tit  her  iby  iMtMe/lay, 

With  scent  of  bay  and  hum  of  t>«e&    / 
Faintly  from  fai-aff  Sidly.  .  .  /. 
Ah,  well  I  know  that  not  for  us    ,      . 
Are  Virgil  and  Theocritus, 
And  that  the  golden  age  is  past 
Whereof  they  sang,  anii  thou,  the  last, 
Sweet  Spenser,  of  their  god-like  line, 
Sbfar  far  too  swift  For  verse  of  mine    ; 
One  strain  tb  cunpas&trf  youi  bong. 
Yet  thwe  aie  pdata  Uwt  prolong 
Of  your  rare  voice  the  ravishrafent 
In  silver  cadences;  content 
Were  TIE  I  could  but  rehearae 
One  stave  of  Wither's  starry  verse. 
Weave  such  wrought  richness  as  reciUs 
Britannia's  lovely  Pastorals, 



Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


You  sieep  upon  your  motlier's  breast, 

Your  race  begun, 
A  welcome,  long  a  wished-for  Guest, 

Whose  age  is  One. 

A  Baby-Boy,  you  wonder  why 

You  cannot  run; 
You  try  to  talk— how  hard  you  tryl — 

You're  only  One. 

Ere  long  you  won't  be  such  a  dunce: 

You'll  eat  your  bun, 
And  fly  your  kite,  like  folk  who  once 

Were  only  One. 

You'll  rhyme  and  woo,  and  flght  and  joke. 

Perhaps  you'll  puni 
Such  feaU  are  never  done  by  folk 

Before  they're  One. 

Some  day,  too,  you  may  have  your  joy, 

And  envy  none; 
Yes,  you,  yoiurself,  may  own  a  Boy, 

Who  isn't  One. 

He'll  dance,  and  laugh,  and  crow;  hell  do 

As  you  have  done: 
(You  crown  a  happy  home,  though  you 

Are  only  One.) 

But  when  he's  grown  shall  you  be  heoe 

To  share  his  fun. 
And  talk  of  times  when  he  (the  Dead) 

Was  hardly  One? 

'  poor  lot  to  be 

m  old,  you  see, — 


k  Locker-Lampson  (iSii- 


To  a  New-BotnChiH'  ■' 
TO  A'  NBW-BORN  OHIUJ  '  '    ' 

Fair  Angel-rtiwr. 
No  wonder  now  y«u  would  have  stayed, 
Buthushyour  cries,  my  little  maid,!    r;  ■ 

Tti^  journey's  over. 
For,  utter  stranger  as  you  are, 
TTierc  yet  are  many  hearts  ajar 

For  your  arriving, 
And  trusty  friends  and  lovers  true 
Are  waiting,  rcatly-made  for  you, 

"Without  your  striving. 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  9f,,Ycn>tl»  vd,  Age 

The  earth  is  full  of  lovely  things, 
And  if  at  fiiat  yoji  vpa  yjouf  *n^, :  | 

You'll  soon  forget  them; 
And  others,  of  a  rarer  kind       '     , 
Will  grow  upon  your  tender  mind — '  . 

If  you  will  let  them — 

Until  you  find  that  your  eitchinge' 

Of  Heaven  for  earth  expands  your  range 

E'enBsa:£ier,  ,// 

And  that  ypDr:Du>therf  yottAqdl,'    jr.,  , // 
If  we  do  what  we  dwuld,  may  ^y:  ■-,  f 

Than  Angels  higbei.  - 



CHBjKiEsaswftas  July  peaches,:.      ,■    ■ 
Lips  whose  d«wy  scarlet  teaches,.  -    ■     i 
Poppies  paleness-ground  laj:ge  eyes 
Ever  great  with  new  surprise, 
Minutes  filled  with  shadelcss  gladness, 
Minutes  just  as  brimmed  with  sadneSs,  ' 
Happy  smiles  and  wailing  cries,' 
Crows  and  laughs  and  tearful-  eyes, ' 
Lights  and  shadows  swifter  born 
Than  on  wind-swept  Autumn  ctirrt, 
Ever  some  new  tiny  notion  ■  ■        ,-'  ■,  i' 
MriJiBgevefylinibatimoliidnrJ-.: ,;  \n{ 
Catching  up  of  legs  aTrd  arms/         I 
lliroWingS 'back  and  small  alanra,         ■^ 
Clutching  fingers — straightetiingi  jeitv' 
Twining  feet  whose  each  toe  works, 
Kickings  up  and  straining  risings^       .^  , 
Mother's  eyer  new  sufprisings,  .,  ^^  |. 

Hands  all  wants  and.  looks  oU  wondpr 
At  all  things  thp  heavens  under,  ,  ,  ,  ^  ^ 
Tiny  scorns  ol  smiled  reprovings,         ^  . 
That  have  mote  of  loye  than  Joyi^if^ 


Mischitls.diQiieiwiU]  such  «  witvung] ',  ]< 

BreaJLJDgs  dire  of  plates  and  glasses,     ^ 
Graspiiig's. small  at  all  that  parses,      '  ', 
Pullings  off  of  all  that'sable  ■' 
To  be  Cfwight  from  tray  or^abk;'.  ].    .1 
Silences— small  meditxtkins/ i  i  ;<  ■>  -iA' 

i  7 
Wealth  fo^  wfiich  \^*'know  no  mtiatftnfe;"  ' 
Pieasure  high  above  all  pleaitire,  ' "  ■  ■ ' 
Gladness  bHiliinmg  over  gladiieM,  ■■■  '  ■'■ 
Joy  in  care — delight  in  sadness, '  "■■'-"  ' 
I>}vdine^  bey6hd  conil^ttDe^,  '  "' ' ' 
SweetncaftcHstaricihgdUswectneis,  "  "■"' 
Beauty  all  tiiat  beauty  Hiay  be— '-'  ■'"  ' 
That's  May  Bennett;  flfat's  ihy  bAfty.   '• ' 

:..  /■■..,  1 ,1...  ,I.-i.) 
AOtE  "■,^;^;    ''^:  ''"■;] 

Of  deepest  Uueof  summer  ski^.      .  / 
Is  wTQHght,  the  heaven  (it  ber  eyes,     i  ) 
Of  that  fiiie  gold  t6e  aulumris  wW  ' 
Is  wrought  the  glory  of  her  hair.      ' 

Ctfn»e  leaves  fnhioaBd  in  tbeiSMlth  / 
IsahapedtMrnwdottaeBlBioutb.  I   i 

And  froin  the  honeyed  lipa  o^  bll'sa       . 
Is  drawn  the  sweetness  of  her  kissi,'     , 

'Mid  twBlght  thnlAw  that  rejafce  .■■>-  I 
Is  found  the  Caden<»of  htv  voic%  ■•  •  fl 


Poems  of  Yotith  and  Age 

Of  winds  that  wave  the  ffestcfn  At 
Is  made  the  velvet  touch  of  her. 
Of  all  earth's  songs  God  took  Ihe  half 
To  make  the  ripple  of  tier  laugh.  , 

I  hear  you  ask,  "Pray  who  is  she?"— ^  .  1 
This  maid  that  is  so  dear  to  me. 

"A  reigning  queen  in  Fashion's  whirl?"  ' 
Nay,  nay!    She  is  my  baby  girl. 

Herbert  Baskford  fiSTi- 


Fragoletta,  blessed  one! 
What  tJiink.  you  of  the  light  of  the  sun? 
Do  you  think  the  dark  was  best. 
Lying  snug  in  mother's  breast? 
Ah!  i  knew  that  sweetness,  too, 
Fragoletla,  before  you! 
But,  Fragoletta,  now  you're  bom, 
You  must  learn  to  love  the  mom, 
Love  the  lovely  working  light. 
Love  the  miracle  of  sight, 
'    JjDve  the  thousand  things  to  do — 
Little  girl,  I  envy  you! — 
Love  the  tJiousand  things  to  see, 
Love  your  mother,  and — love  me! 
And  some  night,  Fragoletta,  soon,         ' 
I'll  t^e  you  out  to  see  the  moon; 
And  for  the  first  time,  child  of  ours, 
You  shall— think  of  it! — look  on  flowers^ 
And  smell  them,  too,  if  you  are  good. 
And  bear  the  gi«en  leaves  m  the  wood  • 
Talktnig)  talking,  all  together 
In  the4i^py  windy  weather; 
And  if  the  journey's  not  loo  far  ' 

For  little  limbs  so  lately  made, 
Limb  upon  limb  like  petals  laid, 
We'll  go  and  picnic,  in  a  star. 


.  Songs  for  Fragoletta  '• 

£tue  eyva,  looking  i^  at  me, 
I  wonder  what  you  really  see, 
Lyinffia  year  cradle  therei 
Fragrant  as  a  bmnch  of  myrrh? 
Helpless  little  bands  aod  feet, 
O  so  hdplcasl    0  so  sweetl 
"Hny  tongue  that  cannot  talk, 
-Tiny  feet  that  cannot  walk, 
Nothing  vf  you  that  can  do 
Aught,  except  those  eyee  of  blue. 
How  they  open,  how  they  close! — 
Eyelids  of  the  babj'-rose. 
Open  and  shut — so  blue,  so  wiae, 
Bttby-^eUdft,  baby-eyes. 

That,  Fragoletta,  is  the  rain 
Beating  upon' the  Window-pane; 
But  lo!  The  golden  sun  appears, 
To  kis;  away  the  window's  tears.      ' 
Tliat,  Fragoletta,  is  the  wind. 
That  rattles  so  the  window-blind;  " 
And  yonder  shining  thing's  a  star, ' ' 
Blue  eyes — you  seem  ten  times  as  far. 
That,  Fragoletta,  is  a  bird 
That  speaks,  yet  never  says  a  word; 
Upon  a  cherry  tree  It  sings, 
Simple  as  all  mysterious  things; 
Its  Utde  life  to  pefjc  and  ^pe. 
As  long  as  dierHes  ripe  and  ripe, 
And  minister  unto  the  need 
Of  b^y-tnrds  that  feed  and  feed. 
This,  Fragdetta,  is  a  flower,  ' 

Open  and  fragrant  for  an  hour, 
A  flower,  a  transitory  thing,  ' 

Each  petal  fleeting  as  a  wing,  •■  ■'  ■ 
All  a  May  tttoniing  blotts  and  Mows, 
And  then  fotevtrlattiig  gots.   ''!'- i 


;.i:4  Poei>iai;^of  Dfouth^jwid-  Age 

Blue  eyeSf  agaimt  the.  iriliteMSS  ipttfesed 
Of  little.OMther's^hEUpwedjbnaflt,'.  I 
The  while  yourftr^teblinglipaafe^, 
Look  a4i  at  motUer'B  bended  hcad^    T 
All  bentriictian  over  your-' 
O  blue  eyes  lookiBg  into  blori  ' '•■     • 

Fragoletta  is  so  small,  ■:     ■  ■ 

We  wonder  that  she  lives  it  all—'  '' 
Tiny 'alabaster  girl,  '  ■         ''■■', 
Hardly  bigger  than  a  peari; 
That  is  why  W  take  iuch  care;  ■ 
Lest  sometne  run  away  with  fcec  ■: ' 

:    CHOOSING. A  NAM?    ,; 

I  HAVE  gpt  a  u?w-borii  sister:  ,  ,,  i 
I  was  nigh  tie  first  that  kissed  her. 
Wheifl  tiic  nursing-woman  brought  her 
To  papa,  his  infant  daughter,  ,  / 
Ho\v  papa's  dear  eyes  did  glisten!  , 
She  wiU  shortly  be  to  christen;  , 
And  papa  has  made  the  offer,  , 

i  shall  have  the  naming  of  her. 

Now  I  wonder  wbat  woul4  please  her,- 
Cbarlottc,  Julia,  or  Louisa? 
Ann  and  Mary,  they're  too  commtaj; 
Joan's  loo  fprmal  for  a  womaj); 
Jane's  a  prettier  name  beside;! 
But  we  had  a  Jajie  that  died. 
They  wouldsay,  if  'twas  Rebecoi,  ' 
That  she  was  a  little  Quaker., , 
ikiiBh'a  pretty,  but  that  iooks/  ,     ■ 
Better  io  (JdEBglisb  booMi     r    ■./. 


Bl^cbe'  is'  oot'of  f^hioti'  hi*." ' 
Konc that! have  hkmedaiyift   '■ 
^soigoodas'Margartt.''  '"  ■  ■' 
Emily  is  neat  aod  fioe; 
What  do^  tldlDk  uEiGaroliiuP' '' 
Hatrl'*!!!  pueded  and  pcrpUaed 
What  to.'Cfaobee  oi'  think' bfjieatl :' 
I  am  in  a  little  fever        ii    -     i 
Lest  the  name  that  I  should  give  her 


"Bow^aumi)' pounded  dtya  the  ^)a}>y  weigh — 
BBby^.^«lLo.camfi  bUt  a  mOn(h<  bg^i^  : 

HowrmaBy  pounds  isbm  tite  WmvoX^  curl 
To-tfa«  Nsyt  [teint  of  the  restless  toe?  " 

Grandfather  ties  the  'kerchief  knot. 
Tenderly  guides  .the  swinging  weight. 

And  carefEny  Wer  his  glaiati  lieers 
To  read  the  record,  "only  eight," 

Softly  the  ediQlgoea  around: 
Tbe  father  iaugha  at  the  tjny  gitl.;  ■ 

The  fair  younjmotheri  sings  the]worcls,  / 
While  grandn]9tter  smopths  the  golden  curl. 

.  A^  stooping  above  the  prpcious  thing^  ^ 

Nestles  a  kiss  within' a  praye^,    ,    ..j. 

Miinnuring  softly  "Littlcx>ne,    .^..^i,    j. 

'  Grandfather  did  not  weigh  you  faii-:" 

Nd>o3y  Weighed  tte  ba'ty's  smile,  '  "  ' 
Or  thelove  that  came  With  ilhfe  hfclffl^  one; 

Nobod/Wei^ed  the  thneadsd*  care;  '' 
From  wMcfa  a  Wonlan's  lif4  is  spun. 


7i6  Po^s.  of  Youth  and  Age 

No  index  tells  Ui£  mighty  worth. 

0£  a  litUe  baby's  quiet  breath— i 
A  seit,  uncea^ng  metronome. 

Patient  and  faithful  until  deathi 

Nobody  wd^^ied  the  baby's  soul. 
For  here  on  earth  no  wei^its  there  be 

That  could  avail;  God  only  knows 
Its  value  in  eternity. 

Only  ei^t  pounds  to  hold  a  soul 
TTiat  seeks  no  angel's  silvtr  wtn|g, 

But  shrines  it  in  this  human  guise, 
Within  so  frail  and  small  a  thing! 

Oh,  mother!  laugh  your  merry  note, 
Be  gay  and  glad,  but  don't  forget    ' 

From  baby's  eyes  kK>kB  out  a  soul 
That  claims  a  home  in  Eden  yet. 

Ellul  Lytm  Bters  {1817- 


A  baby's  feet,  like  seashells  pink, 

Might  tempt,  should  heaven  see  meet. 
An  angel's  lips  to  kisa,  we  think, 
A  baby's  feet. 

Like  rose-hued  sea-flowers  toward  the  heat 

They  stretch  and  spread  and  wink 
Their  ten  soft  buds  that  part  and  meet- 
No  flower-bells  that  expand  and  shrink  - 
,;  .    (^eam  half  so  heavenly  sweet. 
As  shine  on  life's  untrodden  brink 
A  baby's  feet. 


,  Uttk  ,'Fpet 

A  baby's  hands,  Kte  rosebuds  furled, 

Where  yet  50  leaf  ejcpaods,  :  I 

Ope  if  you  touch,  though  dose  upcurled,— 
A  baby's  hands. 

Then,  even  as  warriors  grip  thdr  brands 

When  battle's  bolt  is  hurled, 
They  dose,  denched  hard  like  tighteinttg  bands. 

No  rosebuds  yet  by  dawn  impearled 

Matdi,  even  in  loveliest  lands, 
The  sweetest  flowers  in  all  the  worid,— 
A  baby's  hands. 

A  baby's  eyes,  ere  tpeedi  begin, 
Ere  lips  lean*  y.ord»  or  sighs, 
Bless  all  things  bright  enough  to  win 

Ai  baby's  eyes.  j 

Love,  while  thesweat  thing  laughs  andlies, 

And  sle^  &>W4  o\A  anfl  in. 
Sees  perfect  in  them  Paradise! 

Thdr  ^ncc  might  cast  out  pain  and  sin. 

Their  speech  make  dumb  the  wise,.  ,    i  > 

By  mute  glad  godhead  felt  within 
A  baby's  eyes. 

Aigemm  CharUs  Swnhumt  (iB|37.Ti90fll 


Two  Uttle  feet,  so  sinaU  that  both  may  nesUe 

In  one  caressing  hand,— 
Two  tender  feet  Upon  the  untried  border 

Of  life'»  rayeterioits  land-  ' 


CiS  Poems'of'lYoilt*)' and  Age 

Dimpled,  and  soft,  and^pink  as  peach-tree  blossoms. 

In  Afnl's  fragiuDj  'i^y^..  .  i    ,„      ,  ■  ;,f  / 
How  can  they  walk  among  the  bqery  ti^gl^,!  j 

.MlOP^  the  woild's  rough  w^>^^  jj  .^^., , 

These  rose-white  feet,  along  the  doubtful  future, 

Must,  bear  a  mother's. load;  ,^  r.wr 

Alas!  since  Woman  has  the  heavier  biircjep,      '  ,i 
An4  vralks  the  harder  Toad.  ., ,. 

'Love,  for  a  while,  will  jnake  the  path  before  th^ 

AU  dainty,  smooth,  and  fair,—,  ,  ,',    ' 
Will  cull  awaj^  the  bramblos,  letting  only      .'     .  .. 
The  roses  blossocQ  there. 

But  when  the  mother's  watchful  eyes  are  ^irouded 

Away  from  sight  of  men, 
And  these  dear  feet  are'left  withcfut  her  goidliigi  ■' 

Who  shaH  direct  therri  then?'  '        ■'1 

■       ■■■ ■■.■■  (■:... HI 

How  will  they  be  allured,  betrayed,  deluded. 

Poor  little  untaught  teetl 
Into  whSt  dl^ary  mazes  will  (hey  watider,  ■'  .'■'■A 

What  dangers  *iil  they  mtetP'  "-  '■■■.■'- 

Will  they  go  stumbling  blindly  in  the  darkness 

Of 'sorrow's  tearful  shades?     i',  tIk  1 
Or  find  the  upland  slopes  of  Peace  and  Beauty,! 

Whose  sunlight  nevertadeiS   ;    -mn 

Will  they  go  lolling  up  Ambftion's  summit. 

The  common  world  above? 
Or  in  some  nameless  vale,  securely  sheltered. 

Walk  sidf  by  sijie  «iith.  Love? 

'-Some  ftet  there  b^  which  walk  life's  tracH  wnvbunded. 
Which  find  but  pleasaM  wtays: 

Some  hearts  thei'frbt  to  whkh'Thta  (ffe'i»odl7"T 
A  rotlnd  of  ba(i{]yftkyii.  •' ' 


But  these  are  few.     Far  more  there  are  who  wander 

With6ilit  a' bdpe'tfr  frieiiid,— 
Who  find  thfi^  journey  ivil  of  pa i as  and,l^pfle9,,  - 

AndJcng  ta  E^ch  tbe end.        ,  ,,     ,   ; 

Ah!  who  may  read  the  futnre?    For  our  darting  ' 
We  crave  ail  blessings  SvKOt,  ■■■    '         .  I 

And  pray  that  He  who  k«ds  the  crying  nvteas     '  I 
Will  guide  the  baby's  feet. 


..  ^        THE  BABIE        ' 

Nae  shoon  to  hide  her  tiny  taes, 

Nae  ^lUdkhi'  on  heli'  feet ; 
Her  supple  ankles  while  as  aijaw.      ,, 

Or  early  blossoms  sweet.  ', 

Her  sii^edress.o' sprinkled  PHtk,.  i 

H^,  double,  dimp^t  chin, 
Her  puckered  lips,  an'  l»umy  mou', 

With  na  ane  tooth  niti^C 

Her  een  sae  like  her  mither's  een, 
Twa  gentle,  Kqutd 'things;  ' 

Her  face  is  like  an  angd's  face,—'  ' ' ' 
We're  gjadste  has  nae  wings. ,.  .  | 

She  is  the  bliddin'  Of  our  JuVe',      '  " ' 

A  giftie  God  gied  us: 
We  maun  na  luve  the  gift  owre  wee!, 

'Twad  be  nae  blcsrio'  thils. 

Wfe  stai  mauii  luve  the  Oiver' Uiafr, '' 

An'  ste  Bfirrt  m  the  given;  '  '■  "' ' 
An' sae  she'll  lead  us  opto'Hto,  "  " 
'  Oorliabie  straight  fraeH«vett:        ' 

■■■■•'■        ■   JtreMiai'Earn^s  Sdnmr^lii^k-igo4\ 

p:hy  Google 

)  Poems  of  youtli  and  Age 


Son  Httfe  hands  that  stray  and  clutch,  ■  '  '■' 

Like  fern  fronds  curi  and  uncurl  bold, 

WhUe  baby  ; , 

Close  sleep 

What  is  it : 


0  fingers  si 

How  should  you  know  you  hold  so  much? 

Two  full  hearts  beating  you  inclose, 

Hopes,  feare,  prayers,  longings  joys  and  y/o^-f- 

AU  yours  to  hold,  O  little  hands! 

More,  more  than  wisdom  understands 

And  love,  love  only  knows. 

Laurence  Binyon  [1869- 

Bahtholomew  is  very  sweet. 
From  sandy  hair  to  rosy  feet. 

Bartholomew  is  sin  months  old, 
And  dearer  far  than  pearls  or  gold. 

Bartholomew  has  deep  blue  eyes. 

Round  pieces  dropped  from  out  the  skies. 

Bartholomew  is  hugged  and  kissed: 
He  loves  a  flower  in  either  fist. 

Bartholomew's  my  saucy  sonr 
No  mother  has  a  sweeter  one! 

Normin  Gate  [i86j- 


Mv  child  came  to  me  with  the  equinox, 
The  wild  wind  blew  him  to  my  swinging  door. 
With  flakes  of  tawny  foam  from  off  th?  shore. 
And  shivering  spindrift  whirled  across  the  rocks, 
.  jflungdown  the  sky,  the  wheeling  swailow-flocka 


^^Phmp,  My  King"     ' 

Cried  him  a  greedng,  add  the  loFdly  woods, 
Waving  lean  arma  of  welcome  one  by  one, 
Cast  down  their  russet  cloaks  and  golden  hoods. 
And  bid  their  dandng  leaflets  trip  and  run 
Before  the  tender  feet  of  this  my  son. 

Therefore  the  sea's  swiift  fire  is  in  his  vdfis, 
And  in  his  heart  the  glory  of  the  sea; 
Therefore  the  storm-Wind  shall  his  cbmrade  be, 


On  parent  knees,  a  naked  new-bom  child, 
Weeping  thou  sat'st  while  all  around  thee  smiled: 
So  live,  that,  sinking  to  thy  life's  last  sleep. 
Calm  thou  may'st  smile,  while  all  around  Ihee  weep. 

William  Jones  (iT46-t7B4l 


"  Wit  tan  Bfm  kit  icby  km  iki  nmmd  ami  ItHrf  snva'My." 

Look  at  me  with  thy  large  brown  eyes, 

PhiKp,  my  king! 
Round  whom  the  enshadowing  purple  lies 
Of  babyhood's  royal  dignities. 
Lay  on  my  neck  thy  tiny  hand 

With  love's  Hlvisible  scepter  laden; 
I  am  tjilne  Bather  to  command 
Till  thou  shalt  find  a  quem-handmaiden, 
FhiHp,  my  Idi^. 


Ol  I'oems  ot  Youth  Htid'lAge 

O  the  day  when  tbou  goest  arwootog, 

Philip,  my  kingi 
When  those  beautiful  lips  aie  tuiag. 
And  some  gentle  heart's  Ijars  inuloiog, 
Thou  dost  enter,  love-cmwned,  and  th(re 

Sittest  love^glorificd.    Rule  kindly, 
Tenderly,  over  thy  kingdom  fail, 
For  we  that  love,  ahl  ne  love  bo  Uindly, 
Philip,  my  king. 

Philip,  my  king. 

— A  wreath  not  of  gold,  but  palm.    One  day, 

Philip,  my  king! 
Thou  too  must  tread,  as  we  trod,  a  way 
Thorny  and  cruel  and  cold  and  gray; 
Rebels  within  thee,  and  foes  without,  .       . 

\^ill  snatch  at  thy  crown.     But  march  on,  glorious, 
Martyr,  yet  monarch!  till  angeb  shout. 
As  thou  sittest  at  the  feet  of  God  victorious, 
"Philip,  the  king!" 
Dinah  Maria  Mvlock  Craik  [i8i6--tS87] 


Draw  back  the  cradle  curtains,  Kate, 

While  watch  and  ward  you're  keeping,  i 
Let's  see  the  monarch  in.  his  state, 

And  view  him  while  he's  sleeping. . ,  ,  ! 
He  smiles  and  clasps  his  tiny  haad, 

With  sunbeams,  o'ec  him  gleanuqgt"  I 
A  world  of  baby  fairyland 

He  visits  while  he's  die 

p:hy  Google 

"^k  King'iof>tfiel'Cnidle'[  i^ 

Monarchof  peariy  pomden-pufls-i'  / 

Asleep  in  nest  so  cosy, 
Shielded  from  breath  ofibreezes  rougb     i 

By  curtains  warm  and  TO^:'.   ■  ,' .    i 

His  piltowwfieri'itfe  rumpled—     ■  ■ 

A  couch  of  rose  leaves  soft  and  sweet,  ' 

Not  dne  of  which  is  crumpledf  ' 

Will  jfoiider  dainty  dimpled  hand- 
Size,  nothing  and  a  quarter-^        .  r 

E'er  grasp  a  saber,  lead  a  band  ' 
Tog»«yaod  toslaoghter?!        '•   ■ 

Or,  mayl  ask,  will  thost  blue  eyes — 
In  baby  patois,  "peepers" — 

E'er  in  the  House  ot  Commons  rise. 
And  try  to  catch  the  Speaker's? 

Tboikgh  rosy,  dimt^ed,  pliimp,  and  round" 
Though  fragile,  soft,  and  tender,  ■---•■■ 

Sometirtws,  oias!  it  may  be  fflund  ■  '  '' ''  •'  ■ 
The  thread  of  Hftiis^endefl  'i' '  I' 


Potfina  of  Youth  and  Agfe 

A  little  shoe,  &  little  gbve —  1 ' 

Affection  never  waning — 
The  Bhattes«d  idol  of  our  iow-  ■  ■ '-' 

Is  all  that  is  remaining! 

Then  does  one  ctuuice,  in  fancy,  bear, 

SmaU  feet  ia  childish  patter. 
Tread  soft  as  they  a  grave  draw  neat, 

And  voices  hush  their  chatter; 
lis  small  and  new;  they  panse  io  (ear. 

Beneath  the  gray  church  tower. 
To  coiisecTa4e  it  with  a  tear, 

And  deck  it  with  a  flower. 

Who  can  predict  the  future,  Kat*— 

Your  fondest  aspiration! 
Who  knows  the  solemn  laws  of  fate,     , 

That  govern  all  creation? 
Who  knows  what  lot  awaits  your  boy—'   ■ 

Of  happiness  or  sorrow? 
Sufficient  for  to-day  is  joy. 

Leave  tears,  Sweet,  for  to-morrow! 

Joseph  AMySlmy  (lajfr-i.) 


So  fair,  so  dear,  so  warm  upon  my  bosom, 
And'in  my  hands  the  little  rosy  feet.  ' 

Steep  on,  my  little  bird,  my  Iamb,  my  blossom; 
Sle^  on,  deep  on,  my  sweet.  ' 

What  is  it  God  hath  given  me  to  cherish. 
This  living,  moving  wonder  which  b  mine— i 
Mine  only?    Leave  it  with  me  or  I  perish,  ■ 
Dear  Lord  of  love  divitie. 

DeariLordt  'tia  wonderful  beyond  all  woiuIh,  : 
This  tender  miracle  vouchsafed  to  me. 
One  with  myself,  yet  just  so  far  asundec 

That  I  myself  may  see.  i 


No  Baby  in  the  House 

Flesh  of  my  flesh,  aitd  yet  so  subtly  liQjiiqg 
New  selis  with  old,  all  things,  that  I  have  been 
With  present  joys  beyond  my  fonner  thinking 
And  future  things  unseen. 

There  life  began,  and  here  it  links  with  heaven, 
Tbe  golden  chain  of  years  scarce  dipped  adown 
From  birth,  ere  once  again  a  hold  is  given 
And  nearer  to  God's  Throne. 

Seen,  held  in  arms  and  clasped  around  sp  tightly,— 
My  love,  my  bird,  I  wiU  not  let  thee  go. 
Yet  soon  the  little  rosy  feet  must  tightly 
Go  pattering  to  and  fro-  , 

Mine,  Lord,  all  mine  Thy  gift  and  loving  token. 
Mine — yes  or  no,  unseen  its  soul  divine? 
Mine  by  the  chain  of  love  with  links  unbroken. 
Dear  Saviour,  Thine  and  mine. 

John  Arthur  GoodckUd  [i8jr- 


No  baby  in  the  house,  I  know. 

Tie  far  too  nice  and  clsan. 
No  toys,  by  careless  fingers  strewn, 

Upon  tine  floors  are  seen. 
No  finger-marks  are  on  the  panes, 

No  wooden  men  Bet  up  in  rows, 

OrmarshaledoSinpaire;   • 
NoHttfe  stocluiigs  to  be  darned, 

AU  ragged  at  the  toes;  • 

No  ^ecrf  mending  tobedone, 

Made  up  of  baby-clothes; 
No  little  troubiea  to  be  soothed;- 

No  little  hands  to  fold; 
No  gdmy  fingers  to  be  washed;  i 

No  stbries;  to  be  told; 


Poerfii  of  Youth  ahd  Age 

No  tender  kisses  to  he  given; 

Nonicknaraes,  "Dove"  and  "Mouse"; 

No  merry  frolics  after  tea, — 
No  baby  in  the  house  I 

Clara  DoUiter  [iS 


FMm"Tlie  Mother's  Idol  Broken" 

Its  little  life  unfurled; 
And  crown  of  all  things  was  our  Wee' 
White  Rose  of  all  the  worid.  ■  _ 

From  out  a  balmy  bosom 

Our  bud  of  beauty  grew; 
It  fed  on  smiles  for  sunshine. 

On  tears  for  daintier  dew: 
Aye  nestling  warm  and  tenderly, 

Our  leaves  of  love  were  curled 
So  dose  and  dose  about  our  wee': 

White  Rose  of  all  the  wod(L 

With  mystical  (aint  fragrance  ■ 

Our  house  of  life  f4ie  filled; 
Revealed  each  hour  some  fairy  tower 

Where  winged  hopes  might  buUd! 
We  s&w— though  none  like  us  might  si 

Such  predous  i»omise  pearled 
Upon  the  petals  of  our  woe 

White  Rose  of  all  the  world.    : 

But  evermore  the  halo 

Of  angel-light  incrdasod. 
Like  the  myatety  of  mdonii^t   ' 

That  f(dds«oine  fairy  ieaat. 

p  hyGoogle 

■J/  1, 

"Baby  SUeps" 

Snow-white,  stiofi'-sMt,  Mi^-silently 

Oarditflrtgbiid'tmcurled,         ' 
And  dropped  in  the  gtave— God's  lapi-om  wee 

White  Rose  of  all  the  world. 

Our  Rose  was  but  in  blossom, 
Our  life  was  but  in  i^nog, 

Vou  scarce  cauM  tfainli  so  smail  a  Chin{(/ 

Could  leave  a  loGS  so  loige;       ,        -.' ■ 
HcT tittle  ii^isach  shadow  flibg    .     li 

From  dawn  to  suoaei's imaige.    '  .. 
Id  ethei  springs  onr  life  may  be         i    '< 

In  bamiCEed  bloom- unfiuied,    ■    ;  .  . 
But  ntveTi'never  match  our  wee  . 

White'Roieof'aUthe^wbikl.     ' 


ISTO  the  worJd  he  looked  nith  sWert  sutpiise; 
The  children  laughed  so  vheo  they  saw  Hii'eyes. 

Into  the  world  a  rosy  hand  in  doubt 

He  reachsd— 'a  (lale  hand  took  one  rosebud  out. 

"And  thfttw^s  all-r^iuite  all!"    J4o,.sure|}(!    But 
Hm  duldrw^iied  so  when  h^  eyes  n-er^  sfiut. 

SaraJlil..B.  Piatt  [t.Si6- 

"BABV  SLEEPS",",'.',',; 

SJu  h  M  iiail,,tul  iletttlk.—LoMX  v'lS.  ji.^  ( 

■      The  baby  wept;  '  ■         !'" 
The  mother  took  It  from  the. nurse's  arms/ 
And  hushed  its  fears,  dnd  soothed  its  rain  alarms, 
■And  baby  slept !  ■  .  ■■■!.' 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Agaia  it  weeps, 
And  God  doth  take  it  from  the  mother's  arms, 
Ftoid  present  griefs,  and  future  unknown  barms, 

And  baby  sleeps. 

Samuel  Hinds  (1703-187: 


Have  you  not  heard  the  poets  tell 

How  came  the  dainty  Baby  Bell 

Into  this  world  of  ours? 

The  gates  of  heaven  were  left  ajar: 

With  folded  hands  and  dreamy  eyes. 

Wandering  out  of  Paradise, 

She  saw  this  planet,  Uke  a  star, 

Hung  in  the  glistening  depths  of  evfin — 

Its  bridges,  running  to  and  fro. 

O'er  which  the  white-winged  Angels  go. 

Bearing  the  holy  Dead  to  heaven. 

She  touched  a  bridge  of  Bowers — thoae  feet. 

So  light  they  did  not  bend  the  beila 

Of  the  celestial  asphodels, 

They  fell  like  dew  upon  the  flowers: 

Then  all  the  air  grew  strangely  sweet. 

And  thus  came  dainty  Baby  Bell 

Into  this  world  of  ours. 

,  She  came  and  brought  deUcious  May; 
The  swallows  built  beneath  the  eaves; 
Like  sunlight,  in  and  out  the  leaves 
The  robins  went,  the  livelong  day; 
The  lily  swung  ils  noiseless  bell; 
And  on  the  porch  the  slender  vine 
Held  out  its  cups  of  fairy  wine. 
How  tenderly  the  twilights  fdll 
Oh,  earth  was  full  of  singing-birds 
And  opening  springtide  flowers. 
When  the  damty  Baby  Bell  ./ 

Came  to  this  world  of  ouis. 


Baby  Bel[ 

O  Baby,  dainty  Baby  B?U, 
How  fair  sht  grew  from  day  to  day! 
What  woman-natuTe  filled  her  eyes. 
What  poetry  within  them  lay — 
Those  deep  and  tender  twilight  eyes, 
So  full  of  meantr^;,  pure  and  bright  ; 

As  if  she  yet  stood  in  the  light 
Of  those  oped  gates  of  Paradise. 
And  so  we  loved  her  more  and  more: 
Ah,  never  in  our  hearts  before 
Was  love  so  lovely  bom: 
We  felt  we  had  a  link  between 
This  real  wotld  and  that  unseen— 
The  laud  beyond  the  mom; 
And  for  tJie  love  of  those  dear  eyea, 
For  love  of  her  whom  God  led  forth, 
(The  mother's  being  ceased  on  earth 
When  Baby  came  from  Paradise,) — 
For  love  of  Him  who  smote  our  lives, 
And  woke  the  chords  of  joy  and  pain. 
We  said,  Dear  Christ I—nui  hearts  bowed  down 
Like  violets  after  rain. 
And  now  the  orchards,  which  were  white 
And  pink  with  blossoms  when  she  came. 
Were  rich  in  autumn's  mellow  prime; 
The  clustered  apples  burnt  like  flame. 
The  folded  chestnut  burst  its  sheU, 
The  grapes  hung  purpling,  range  on  range; 
And  time  wrought  just  as  rich  a  change 
In  litUe  Baby  Bell. 
Her  lissome  form  more  perfect  grew. 
And  in  her  features  we  could  trace. 
In  softened  curves,  her  mother's  face. 
Her  angel-nature  ripened  too: 
We  thought  her  lovely  when  she  came, 
But  she  was  holy,  saintly  now  ... 
Around  her  pale  angelic  brow 
We  saw  a  slender  ring  of  flame. 

p  hyGoogle 

Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

God's  hand  had  taken  away  the  seal 
That  held  the  portals  of  her  speech; 
And  oft  she  said  a  few  strange  words 
Whose  meaning  lay  beyond  out  reach. 
She  never  was  a  child  to  us, 
We  never  held  her  being's  key; 
We  could  not  leach  her  holy  tbinge 
Whci  was  Christ's  self  in  purity. 

It  came  upon  us  by  degrees, 

We  saw  its  shadow  ere  ft  fell— 

The  knowledge  that  our  God  had  sent 

His  messenger  for  BaJbr  Bell. 

We  shuddered  with  uidanguaged  pain, 

And  all  our  hopes  were  changed  to  fears, 

And  ail  our  thoughts  ran  into  tear* 

Like  sunshine  into  tain.  > 

We  cried  aloud  in  our  belief, 

"Oh,  smite  us  gently,  gently,  Godl 

Teach  us  to  bend  and  kiss  the  rod, 

And  perfect  grow  through  grief." 

Ah!  how  we  loved  her,  God  can  tell; 

Her  heart  was  folded  deep  in  oure. 

Our  hearts  are  broken,  Baby  flell! 

Out  of  this  world  oi  ours.  ,  .  ,  i 


IN  the:  NtmsEHY" 


Mistress  Marx,  ((uite  cqntraiy, 
How  ^oesyofu^  garden, ffowf     ,,  ^     , 
With  cockJe-sheUs,  and  silver  bell^,  ,. 
And  pretty  maids  all  in  a  row. 

These  was  an  old  woman  wftojiv^^jn  a  e^oe^    . ./ 
Sbe  had  9>  niaSy  childrdn  sliif  didn't  luuiw  ^tiat,[ti>  do; 
She  gave  them  some  broth  wittout  any  brpad^  ,    \i 
Then  whipped  them  all  stmBdlyamd  put  theB>,.U4,bpd. 

Fetek,  Petet,  pumpkin  eater, 
Had  ft  wife  and  couldn't  'k«<^  her;  - 
He  put  ber  in  ft  pumpkin  shoU  > 
And  tkere  be  kept  her  ToywclL 

RuB-a-duB-dub,  '  . ' 

Three  men  in  a  tuli, 
And  who  do  you  think  they  be? 

The  butcher,  the  baker, 

The  candleMidE-maker; 
Turn  'emotft, ki)avc3,a|l  three! 

I'll  tell  you  a  etory    , 

About  Jack  a  Nory— 
Ahit  now  m^  stary'B  begua;    - 

Hi  tell-you  another  .-    • . 

About  Johnny,  his  tnotbn^-' 
And  TOW  my  story  it.  done.     .      i 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

HlCKOBY,  diekory,  dock, 

The  mouse  ran  up  the  clock; 

The  dock  struck  one, 

The  mouse  ran  down, 

Hickory,  dJckory,  dock. 

A  DU.LAK,  a  dollar, 

A  ten  o'clock  scholar, 

What  makes  you  come  so  soon? 

You  used  to  come  at  ten  o'clock 

But  now  you  come  at  noon. 

There  was  a  little  man, 

And  he  had  a  little  gun. 
And  his  bullets  were  made  of  lead,  lead,  load; 

He  shot  Johnny  Sprig 

Throu^  the  middle  of  his  wig, 
And  knocked  it  right  off  his  head,  head,  head. 

There  was  an  old  woman,  and  what  do  you  think? 
She  lived  upon  nothing  but  victuals  and  drink: 
Victuals  and  drink  were  the  chief  of  ker  diet: 
Yet  this  little  old  woman  could  never  be  quiet. 

She  went  to  a  baker  to  buy  her  some  bread, 
And  when  she  came  home,  her  husband  was  dead; 
She  went  to  the  clerk  to  toll  the  bell. 
And  when  she  came  back  her  husband  was  well. 

If  I  had  as  much  money  as  I  could  spefid, 
I  never  would  cry  old  chairs  to  mend; 
Old  chairs  to  mend,  old  chairs  to  mend; 
I  never  would  cry  old  chairs  to  mend. 

If  I  had  as  much  money  as  I  could  Deli; 
I  never  would  cry  old  clothes  to  seU; 
Old  clothes  to  sdl,  old  dotbes  to  aell; 
I  never  would  cry  old  dothes  to  sdl. 


Mother  Goose's  Melodies 

One  misty,  mobty  morniiig, 

WhcD  doudy  was  the  weather, 
I  met  a  little  old  man 

Clothed  all  in  leather; 
He  began  to  bow  and  scrape, 

And  I  began  to  grin, — 
How  do  you  do,  and  how  do  you  do, 

And  how  do  you  do  again? 

If  all  the  world  were  apple-pie, 

And  all  the  sea  were  ink. 

And  all  the  trees  were  bread  and  cheese. 

What  should  we  have  to  drink? 

Pease-pudding  hot. 

Pease-pudding  cold. 
Pease-pudding  in  the  pot. 

Nine  days  old. 

Some  like  it  hot, 

Some  like  it  cold. 
Some  Eke  it  in  the  pot. 

Nine  days  old. 

Hey,  diddle,  diddle, 
The  cat  and  the  fiddle. 
The  cow  jumped  over  the  moon; 

The  little  dog  laughed 
To  sec  such  sport, 
And  the  dish  ran  away  with  the  spoon. 

Little  Jack  Homer  sat  in  the  comer 

Eating  a  Cfaristmas  pie; 
He  put  in  his  thumb,  and  pulled  out  a  phim 

And  said,  "Whst  a  good  boy  am  II" 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Little  Miss  Muffet, 

Sat  on  a  tufiet, 
Eating  oi  curds  and  whey; 

There  came  a  great  spider 

That  sat  down  beside  her, 
And  frightened  Miss  Muffet  away. 

There  was  a  cnmked  man,  and  he  went  a  crooked  mile. 
He  found  a  crooked  sixpence  against  a  crooked  stile: 
He  bought  a  crooked  cat,  which  caught  a  crooked  mouse. 
And  they  all  lived  together  in  a  little  crooked  house. 

Little  Polly  Flinders, 

Sat  among  the  cinders, 
Warming  her  pretty  little  toes; 

Her  mother  came  and  caught  her, 

And  whipped  her  little  daughter 
For  spoiling  her  nice  new  clothes. 

Basber,  barber,  shave  a  pig. 
How  many  hairs  will  make  a  wig? 
"  Four-and-twenty,  that's  enough." 
Give  the  barber  a  pinch  of  anuff. 

Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  up  your  hom, 
The  sheep's  in  the  meadow,  the  cow's  in  the  com; 
But  where  is  the  boy  that  looks  after  the  sheep? 
He's  under  a  hay-cock,  fast  asleep. 
Will  you  awake  him?    No,  not  I; 
For  if  I  do,  hell  be  sure  to  cry. 

Theke  was  a  man  of  our  town,    * 
And  he  was  wondrous  wise, 

He  jumped  into  a  bramble  bu^, 
And  sciatcbed  out  both  his  eyes: 

p-hy  Google 

Mother  GooSfe's  MHbdies'  jj 

But  when  he  saw  his  eyes  were  out, 

With  all  his  might  and  main, 
He  jumped  into  another  bush, 

And  scratched  'em  in  again. 

The  north  wind  doth  blow. 
And  we  shall  have  snow, 
And  what  will  poor  Robin  do  then, 
Poor  thing? 
He'll  sit  in  a  bam, 
And  to  keep  himself  warm. 
Will  hide  his  head  under  his  wing, 
Poor  thing! 

HiGGLEBY,  piggleby,  my  black  hen. 
She  lays  eggs  for  gentlemen; 
Someltmes  nine,  and  sometimes  ten, 
Higgleby,  piggleby,  my  black  hen. 

TiTREE  wise  men  of  Gotham 
Went  to  sea  in  a  bowl; 
If  the  bowl  had  been  stronger, 
My  song  had  been  longer. 

There  was  an  old  woman  lived  under  a  hiH, 
And  if  she's  not  gone,  she  lives  there  still. 

Pussv-CAT,  pussy-cat,  where  have  you  been? 
I've  been  to  London  to  look  at  the  Queen. 
Pussy-cat,  pussy-cat,  what  did  you  there? 
I  fri^tened  a  little  mouse  under  the  chair. 

There  were  two  blackbirds  sitting  on  a  hill,    ' 
The  one  named  Jack,  the  other  named  Jill; 
Fly  away,  Jack!    Fly  away,  ^1! 
Come  again,  Jack!    Come  again,  Jill! 


3^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

GOOSEV,  goosey,  gander, 

Whithci  shall  I  wander. 

Up  stairs,  down  stairs, 

And  in  my  lady's  chamber. 

There  I  met  an  old  man 

Who  wouid  not  say  his  prayers; 

I  took  him  by  his  left  leg 

And  threw  him  down  the  stairs. 

Baa,  baa,  black  sheep,  have  you  any  wocd? 

Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir,  three  bags  full. 

One  tor  my  master,  one  (or  my  dame, 

And  one  for  the  little  boy  that  lives  in  the  lane. 

Bye,  baby  bunting. 
Daddy's  gone  a-hunting 
To  get  a  little  rabbit-skin 
To  wrap  the  baby  bunting  in. 

Old  King  Cole  ul, 

And  a  merry  ol 

He  called  for  hi  kI  for  his  bowl. 

And  he  called  1  c. 

Every  fiddler,  1^  a  very  fine  fiddle  had  he; 

Twee  twccdle  dee,  tweedle  dec,  went  the  fiddlers. 

Oh,  there's  none  so  rare,  as  can  compare 

With  King  Cole  and  his  fiddlers  three! 

Ride  a  cock-horse  to  Banbury  Cross, 
To  see  a  fine  lady  ride  on  a  white  horse, 
Rings  on  her  fingers,  and  bells  on  her  toes, 
She  shall  have  music  wherever  she  goes. 

Hector  Protector  was  dressed  all  in  green; 
Hector  Protector  was  sent  to  the  Queen. 
The  Queen  did  not  like  him,  no  more  did  the  King; 
So  Hector  Protector  was  sent  back  again. 


Mother  Goose's  Melodies  37 

Peter  Piper  picked  a.  pock  of  piiUed  pqipen; 

A  peck  of  pickled  peppers  Peter  Piper  picked; 

If  Peter  Kper  picked  a  peck  of  pickled  peppers, 

Wkere's  the  peck  of  pickled  peppers  Peter  Pipa  picked? 

Jack  Sfsax  could  eat  no  fat. 

His  wife  could  eat  no  lean, 
And  so,  betwixt  them  both,  you  see. 

They  licked  the  platter  clean. 

The  lion  and  the  utucorn 

Were  fighting  for  the  crown; 
The  lion  beat  the  unicorn 

All  round  about  the  town. 
Some  gave  them  white  bread. 

And  some  gave  them  brown;  . 
Some  gave  them  plum  cake, 

And  sent  them  wit  of  town. 

As  Tommy  Snooks  and  Bessy  Brooks 
Were  walking  out  one  Sunday, 

Says  Tommy  Snooks  to  Bessy  Brooks, 
"To-morrow  will  be  Monday." 

CtffiLY  locks!     Cuily  locksl 

Wilt  thou  he  mine? 
Thou  Shalt  not  wash  dishes 
•  Not  yet  feed  tie  swin«; 
But  Mt  on  a  cnshlon 

And  sew  a  fine  seam, 
And  feed  upon  strawberries. 

Sugar  and  cream. 

Blow,  wind,  Uovl  and-ga,  mill,  go! 

That  the  miller  may  grind'  Ins  corn; 
That  tlie  bakei  may  lake  it  and  into  roUs  make  it, 

And  Bend  US  looie  hot  in  the  mora. 

p-hy  Google 

38  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Six  little  mke  sat  down  to  spin, 
Pussy  passed  by,  and  she  peeped  in. 
"  What  are  you  at,  my  little  men? " 
"Maldtig  coats  for  gentlemen." 
"Shalllcomeinandbiteoff  your  threads?" 
"No,  no.  Miss  Pussy,  you'll  snip  off  our  heads." 
"Oh,  no,  I'll  not,  I'll  help  you  to  spin." 
"That  may  be  so,  but  you  don't  comeinl" 

Bobby  Shaftoe's  gone  to  sea, 
Silver  buckles  at  his  knee; 
When  he  comes  back,  he'll  marry  me, 
Bonny  Bobby  Shaftoe. 

Bobby  Shaftoe 's  fat  and  fair. 
Combing  down  his  yellow  hair; 
He's  my  love  for  evermair, 
Bonny  Bobby  Shaftoe. 

RocK-A-BYE,  baby,  thy  cradle  is  green; 

Father's  a  nobleman,  mother's  a  queen; 

And  Betty's  a  lady,  and  wears  a  gold  ring; 

And  Johnny's  a  drummer,  and  drums  for  the  King. 

Hush-a-byc,  baby,  on  the  tree-top, 
When  tlic  wind  blowa  the  cradle  will  rock; 
When  the  bough  breaks,  the  cradle  will  fall, 
Down  will  come  baby,  bough,  cradle,  and  all. 

To  market,  to  market,  to  buy  a  fat  pig, 
Home  again,  home  again,  jiggety-jig; 
To  market,  to  market,  to  buy  a  fat  hog. 
Home  again,  home  again,  jiggety-jog; 
To  market,  to  market,  to  buy  a  plum  bun, 
Home  again,  home  again,  market  is  dqnei 


Little  Bo-peep 


Jack  and  Jill  went  up  the  hill, 

To  fetch  a  pail  of  water; 
Jack  foU  dowD  and  broke  his  down 

And  Jill  came  tumbling  after. 

Up  Jack  got  and  home  did  trot 
As  last  as  he  could  caper, 

And  wait  to  bed  to  mend  his  head 
With  vinc^r  and  brown  paper. 


The  Queen  of  Hearts 

She  made  some  larts, 
All  on  a  summer's  day; 

The  Knave  of  Hearts 

He  stde  those  tarts. 
And  with  them  ran  away. 

TTie  King  of  Hearts 

Called  for  the  tarts, 
And  beat  the  Knave  full  sore; 

The  Knave  of  Hearts 

Brought  back  the  tarts, 
And  vowed  he'd  steal  no  more! 


Lims  Bo-peep  has  lost  her  sheep, 
And  can't  tell  where  to  find  them; 

Leave  them  alone,  and  they'll  come  home, 
And  bring  their  tails  behind  them. 

LittJe  Bo-peep  fell  fast  asleep, 

And  dreatned  she  heard  tbem  bleating; 
But  when  she  awdce,  she  found  it  a  joke, 

For  thfly  were  still 'a-Oeetiog.  ■ . 

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o  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Then  up  she  took  her  little  ciook, 

Determined  for  to  find  Hiem; 
She  found  them  indeed,  but  it  made  ber  heart  bleed, 

For  they'd  left  their  taik  behind  them! 

It  happened  one  day,  as  Bo-peep  did  stray. 

Unto  a  meadow  hard  by, 
There  she  espied  their  tails  side  by  side, 

All  hung  on  a  tree  to  dry. 

She  heaved  a  sigh,  and  wiped  her  ^e. 

And  over  the  hillocks  she  raced; 
And  tried  what  she  could,  as  a  shepherdess  should, 

That  each  tail  should  be  properly  placed. 


Makv  had  a  little  lamb, 
Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow; 

And  everywhere  that  Mary  went. 
The  lamb  wns  sure  to  go. 

He  followed  her  to  school  one  day, 
Which  was  against  the  rule; 

It  made  the  children  bugh  and  play 
To  see  a  lamb  at  school. 

And  so  the  teacher  turned  him  out. 

But  still  he  lingered  near. 
And  waited  patiently  about 

Till  Mary  did  appear. 

Then  he  ran  to  her,  and  laid 

His  head  upon  her  arm, 
As  if  he  said,  "  I'm  not  afraid — 

You'U  keep  me  from  all  harm." 

"What  makes  the  lamb  love  Mary  so?" 

The  eager  children  cried. 
"Oh,  Mary  loves  the  lamb,  you  know," 

The  teacher  quick  replied. 


*'  Sing  a  Song  of  Sixpence  " 

And  you  each  gentle  amimal 

In  confidence  may  bind. 
And  make  them  follow  at  your  mQ, 

If  you  are  only  kind. 


TwDJKii,  twinlde,  little  star, 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are. 
Up  above  the  world  so  high. 
Like  a  diamond  in  the  sky. 

When  the  blazing  sun  is  set, 
And  the  grass  with  dew  is  wet, 
Then  you  show  your  little  light, 
Twinkle,  twinkle,  all  the  night. 

Then  the  traveler  in  the  dark 
Thanks  you  for  your  tiny  spark. 
He  could  not  see  where  to  go 
If  you  did  not  twinkle  so. 

In  the  datk  blue  sky  you  keep, 
And  often' through  my  curtains  peep) 

For  you  never  diut  your  eye 
Till  the  sun  is  in  the  sky. 

As  your  bright  and  tiny  spark 
Lights  the  traveler  in  the  dark, 
Though  I  know  not  what  you  are, 
Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star. 

Jaiu  Taylor  [1783-1814! 


Sing  a  song  of  sixpence, 

A  pocket  full  of  rye; 
Four-and-twenty  blackbirds 

Baked  in  a  pie; 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

When  the  pie  was  opened 

The  birds  began  to  sing; 
Wasn't  that  a  dainty  dish  ' 

To  set  before  the  King? 

The  King  was  in  his  counting-house, 

Counting  out  his  money; 
The  Queen  was  in  the  parlor, 

Eating  bread  and  honey; 

The  maid  was  in  the  garden 

Hanging  out  the  dotlies; 
When  down  came  a  blackbird. 

And  nipped  oS  her  nose. 


Simple  Simon  met  a  pieman 

Going  to  the  fair; 
Says  Simple  Sunon  to  the  pieman, 

"Let  me  taste  your  ware." 

Says  the  pieman  to  Simple  Simon, 
"Show  me  first  your  penny"; 

Says  Simple  Simon  to  the  pieman. 
"Indeed  I  have  not  any." 

Simple  Simon  went  a-hshing 

For  to  catch  a  whale; 
All  the  water  he  had  got 

Was  in  his  mother's  pail. 

Simple  Simon  went  to  look 
It  plums  grew  on  a  thistle; 

He  pricked  his  fingers  very  much, 
Which  made  poor  Simon  whistle. 


At  five  o'clock  he  milks  the  cow, 

The  busy  farmer's  man. 
At  six  o'clock  he  strains  the  milk 

And  pours  it  in  the  can. 


"When  I   Was^a  Bachelor" 

At  seven  o'ctod  tlie  millanas's  hAtSe 

Must  go  to  town— "get  upl" 
At  eight  o'clock  Nurse  Karea  pours 

The  milk  in  Baby's  cup. 
At  five  o'clock  the  Baby  sleeps 

As  sound  as  sound  can  be. 
At  six  o'clock  he  l&ugbs  and  shouts^ 

So  wide  awake  is  he. 
At  seven  o'clock  he's  in  his  bath. 

At  eight  o'clock  he's  dressed, 
Just  when  the  milk  is  ready,  too, 

S'>  you  can  guess  the  Test. 

StmUie  eajdswn  [r8s3- 

I  HAD  a  little  husband 

No  bigger  than  my  thumb; 
I  put  him  in  a  pint  pot, 

And  there  I  bade  him  drum. 

I  bought  a  little  horse, 
l^t  galloped  up  and  down; 

I  bridled  him  and  saddled  him. 
And  sent  him  out  of  town. 

I  gave  him  some  garters. 

To  garter  up  his  hose, 
And  a  little  handkerchief. 

To  wipe  his  pretty  nose. 

When  1  was  a  bachelor 

I  lived  by  myself; 
And  all  the  bread  and  cheese  I  got 

1  put  upon  the  shelf. 

The  mtB  and  the  mice 

They  made  such  a  strife,  ,  / 

I  was  forced  to  go  to  London 

To  buy  me  a  wife. 


44  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  streets  were  so  bad, 
And  the  lanes  were  so  oanow, 

I  was  forced  to  bring  my  wife  home 
In  a  wheelbarrow. 

The  whedbaiTow  broke, 

And  my  wife  had  a  fallj 
Down  came  wheelbarrow. 

Little  wife  and  all.  -  , 


Johnny  shall  have  a  new  bonnet. 

And  Johnny  shall  go  to  the  f^. 

And  Johnny  ^all  have  a  blue  ribbon 

To  tie  up  his  bonny  brown  hair. 

And  why  may  not  I  love  Johnny, 

And  why  may  not  Johnny  love  me? 
And  why  may  not  I  love  Johnny 
As  well  as  another  body? 

And  here's  a  leg  (or  a  stocking, 

And  here's  a  foot  for  a  shoe; 
And  he  has  a  kiss  for  his  daddy, 

And  one  for  his  mammy,  too. 

And  why  may  not  1  love  Johnny, 
And  why  may  not  Johnny  love  me? 

And  why  may  not  I  love  Johnny, 
As  well  as  another  body? 


The  city  mouse  lives  in  a  house;— 
The  garden  mouse  lives  in  a  bower, 

He's  friendly  with  the  frogs  and  toads. 
And  sees  the  pretty  plants  in  flower. 

The  city  mouse  eats  bread  and  cheese;— 
The  garden  mouse  eats  what  he  can; 

We  will  not  grudge  him  seeds  and  stocks. 
Poor  little  timid  furry  man. 

CMslina  Geergina  Sosselli  [iSjo-iSml 

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"  Merry  ire  the  Bdls  " 


LnTLE  Robin  Redbreast  sat  upon  a  tree. 

Up  went  pussy-cat,  and  down  went  he; 

Down  came  pussy-cat,  and  away  Robin  ran; 

Said  little  Robin  Redbreast,  "  Catch  me  if  you  can." 

liltle  Robin  Redbreast  j'nmped  upon  a  wall, 

Pussy-cat  jumped  after  hiiti,  and  almost  got  a  fall; 

Little  Robin  chirped  and  sang,  and  what  did  pussy  say? 

Pussy-cat  said  naught  but  "Mew,"  and  Robin  flew  away. 


Solomon  GruDt^, 
Bom  on  a  Monday, 
Christened  on  Tuesday, 
Married  on  Wednesday, 
Took,  ill  on  TTiursday, 
Worse  on  Friday, 
Died  on  Saturday, 
Buried  on  Sunday, 
This  is  the  end  of 
Solomon  Grundy. 

MenRY  are  the  bells,  and  merry  would  they  rii^. 
Merry  was  myself,  and  merry  could  I  sing; 
With  a  merry  ding-dong,  happy,  gay,  and  free. 
And  a  merry  ^ng-song,  happy  let  us  be! ' 

Waddle  goes  youc  gait,  and  hollow  are  your  boee: 
Noddle  goes  your  pate,  and  purple  is  your  nose: 
Merry  is  your  sing-song,  happy,  gay,  and  free; 
With  a  merry  ding-dong,  lu^py  let  us  be  I 

Merry  have  we  met,  and  merry  have  we  been; 
Merry  let  us  part,  and  merry  meet  again; 
With  our  merry  sing-song,  happy,  gay,  and  free, 
With  a  merry  ding-dong,  happy  let  us  bet 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

When  good  King  Arthur  ruled  this  land, 

He  was  a  goodly  king; 
He  stole  three  pecks  of  barley  meal, 

To  make  a  bag-pudding. 

A  bag-puddJDg  the  queen,  did  make, 

And  stuffed  it  well  with  plums: 
And  in  it  put  great  lumps  of  fat, 

As  big  as  my  two  thumbs. 

Hie  king  and  queen  did  eat  thereof, 

And  noblemen  beside; 
And  what  they  could  not  eat  that  night, 

The  queen  next  morning  fried. 

I  HAD  a  little  Doggy  that  used  to  sit  and  beg; 
But  Doggy  tumbled  down  the  stairs  and  broke  his  little  leg. 
Oh!  Doggy,  I  will  nuree  you,  and  try  to  make  you  well. 
And  you  shall  have  a  collar  with  a  little  silver  bell. 

Ah!  Doggy,  don't  you  think  that  you  should  very  faith- 
ful be, 
For  having  such  a  loving  friend  to  comfort  you  as  me? 
And  when  your  leg  is  better,  and  you  can  run  and  play, 
Well  have  a  scamper  in  the  fields  and  see  them  making  hay. 

But,  Doggy,  you  must  promise  (and  mind  your  word  you 

Not  once  to  tease  the  little  lambs,  or  run  among  the  sheep; 
And  then  the  little  yellow  chicks  that  play  upon  the  grass. 
You  must  not  even  wag  your  tail  to  scare  than  as  you  pass. 

A  PAKiiER  went  trotting  upon  his  gray  mare; 
Bumpety,  bumpety,  bump! 
With  his  daughter  behind  him,  so  rosy  and  iali; 
Lumpety,  lumpety,  lumpl 


The  Cow  ♦: 

A  raven  cried  croaJt!  and  they  all  tumbled  down; 
Bumpety,  bumpety,  bump! 

The  mare  broke  her  kneea,  ajid  the  farmer  his  crown; 
Lumpety,  lumpety,  lump  I 

The  mischievous  raven  Rtv  laughing  away; 
Bumpety,  bumpety,  bump! 

And  vowed  he  would  serve  them  the  same  the  next  day; 
Lumpety,  lumpety,  lump! 

PAN  " 

The  owl  and  the  ed  and  the  waiming-paii, 

They  went  to  call  on  the  loap-fat  man. 

the  soap-fat  man  he  was  not  within: 

He'd  gone  for  a  ride  on  hb  rolling-fHn. 

So  they  all  came  back  by  the  way  of  the  town. 

And  turned  the  meeting-house  upside  down. 

Laura  E.  Siehardt  I1850- 


Thank  you,  pretty  cow,  that  made 
Pleasant  milk  to  soak  my  bread. 
Every  day,  and  every  night, 
Warm,  and  fresh,  and  sweet,  and  white. 

Do  not  chew  the  hemlock  rank, 
Growing  on  the  weedy  bank; 
But  the  yellow  cowslips  eat, 
They  will  make  it  very  sweet. 

Where  the  purple  violet  grows. 
Where  the  bubbling  water  flows. 
Where  the  grass  is  fresh  and  fine, 
Pretty  cow,  go  there  and  diiw. 

Aim  Taylor  [1781 

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Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


LmLE  Lamb,  who  made  thee? 
Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee, 
Gave  thee  life,  and  bade  thee  feed 
By  the  stream  and  o'er  the  mead; 
Gave  thee  clothing  o[  delight, 
Softest  clothing,  wooEy,  bright; 
Gave  thee  such  a  tender  voice. 
Making  all  the  vales  rejoice? 

Little  Lamb,  vho  made  thee? 

Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee? 

Little  Lamb,  I'll  tell  thee. 
Little  Lamb,  I'll  tell  thee; 
He  is  callM  by  thy  name, 
For  He  calls  Himself  a  Lamb. 
He  is  meek,  and  He  is  Doild; 
He  became  a  little  child. 
I  a  child,  and  thou  a  lamb, 
We  are  called  by  His  name. 

Little  Lamb,  God  bless  thee! 

Little  Lamb,  God  bless  thee. 

WiUi<tm  Blake  [17S7-1S17] 


On,  where  do  you  come  from, 

You  little  drops  of  rain. 
Fitter  patter,  pitter  patter, 

Down  the  window-pane? 

They  won't  let  me  walk. 

And  they  won't  let  me  play, 
And  they  won't  let  me  go 

Out  of  doors  at  all  to-day. 

They  put  away  my  playthings 

Because  I  broke  them  all. 
And  then  they  locked  up  all  my  bricks, 

And  took  away  my  ball. 


The   House  that  Jack   Built  49 

Tell  me,  little  raindiopB, 

Is  that  the  way  you  pky, 
Ktter  pattet,  pitter  patter. 

All  the  rainy  day? 

They  say  I'm  very  naughty. 

But  I've  nothing  else  to  do 
But  sit  here  at  the  window; 

I  should  like  to  play  with  you. 

The  tittle  raindrops  cannot  speak. 

But  "pitter,  patter  pat" 
Means,  "We  can  play  on  this  side: 

Why  can't  you  play  on  that?  " 


Moon,  so  round  and  yellow. 

Looking  from  on  high, 
How  I  love  to  see  you 

Shining  in  the  sky. 
Oft  and  oft  I  wonder, 

When  I  see  you  there. 
How  they  get  to  light  you, 

Hanging  in  the  air: 

Where  you  go  at  morning. 

When  the  night  is  past. 
And  the  sun  comes  peeping 

O'er  the  hills  at  last. 
Sometime  I  will  watch  you 

Slyly  overhead, 
When  you  think  I'm  sleeping 

Snugly  in  my  bed. 

Matthias  Barrliiit- 


This  is  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  maK 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

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Potms  o£  Youth  and  Age 

This  is  the  lat 
That  ate  the  malt 
lliat  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  buUt. 

Thb  is  (be  cat 
That  killed  the  rat 
That  ate  the  malt 
Tliat  lay  in  the  bouse  that  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  dog 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 
This  is  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  horn 

That  tossed  the  dog 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  maiden  all  forlorn 

That  milked  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  hom 

That  tossed  the  dog 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  man  all  Uttered  and  torn 

Tiiat  kissed  the  maiden  all  forlorn 

That  milked  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  hom 

That  tossed  the  dog 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  priest  all  shaven  and  shorn 
That  married  the  man  all  tattered  and  torn 
That  kissed  the  maiden  all  foriorn 
That  milked  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  hom 


Old  Mother  Hubbfird' 

That  tossed  the  dog 
That  worried  the  eat 
That  kilfcd  the  rat 
That  a,te  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  house  that  Jack  buUt. 

This  b  the  cock  that  crowed  in  the  moin 
That  waked  the  pEket  bH  sbaveo  aqd  shorn 
That  married  the  nuan  all  tattered  and  torn 
That  kissed  the  maiden  all  forlorn 
lliat  mifiied  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  horn 

That  tossed  the  dog 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
That  lay  in  the  hotise  tliat  Jack  built. 

This  is  the  farmer  sowing  his  com 

That  kept  the  cock  Chat  crowed  in  the  morn 

That  waked  the  priest  all  shaven  and  shorn 

That  married  the  man  all  tatt«red  and  torn 

That  kissed  the  maiden  all  Eorlont    , 

That  milked  the  cow  with  the  cnimpled  horn 

That  tossed  the  dog  ' 

That  worried  the  cat 

That  killed  the  rat 

That  ate  the  malt 
Hiat  lay  in  the  bouse  that  Jack  built. 


Old  Mother  Hubbard 

Went  to  the  cupboard, 
To  get  her  poor  dog  a  bone: 

But  when  she  got  there 

The  cupboard  was  bare, 
And  so  the  poor  dog  had.  none. 

She  vcDt  to  the  baker's 

To  buy  him  some  br^ad, 
But  tthra  she  came  back 

The  poor  dog  was  dead. 

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Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

She  went  to  the  janer'a 

To  buy  him  a  coffin, 
But  when  she  came  back 

The  poor  dog  was  laughing. 

She  took  a  dean  dish 
To  get  him  some  tripe. 

But  when  she  came  back 
He  was  smoking  a  pipe. 

She  went  to  the  fishmonger's 
To  buy  him  some  fish, 

But  when  she  came  back 
He  was  licking  the  dish. 

She  went  to  the  tavern 

For  white  wine  and  red. 
But  when  she  came  back 

The  dog  stood  on  his  head. 
She  went  to  the  hatter's 

To  buy  him  a  hat, 
But  when  she  came  back 

He  was  feeding  the  cat. 

She  went  to  the  barber's 

To  buy  him  a  wig, 
But  when  she  came  back 

He  was  dancing  a  jig. 

She  went  to  the  fniiterer'a 
To  buy  him  some  fruit, 

But  when  she  came  back 
He  was  playing  the  fiute. 

She  went  to  the  taikir's 

To  buy  him  a  coat. 
But  when  she  came  ba<± 

He  was  riding  a  goat. 

She  went  to  the  cobbler's 
To  buy  him  some  shoes, 

But  when  she  came  back 
He  was  reeding  the  news. 


The  Death  and  Borisi)'  of  Cock  Robin    S3 

She  went  to  the  seumUtas 

To  buy  him  some  linen, 
Bnt  when  she  came  back 

The  dog  was  spinning. 

She  went  to  the  hosier's 

To  buy  him  some  hose, 
But  when  she  came  back 

He  was  dressed  in  his  clothes. 

The  dame  made  a  curtesy. 

The  dog  made  a  bow. 
The  dame  said,  "Your  servant," 

The  dog  said,  "Bow-wow." 

This  wondeHul  dog 
Was  Dame  Hubbard's  delight; 

He  could  sing,  he  could  dance, 
He  could  read,  he  could  write. 

She  gave  him  rich  dainties 

Whenever  he  fed, 
And  built  him  a  monumeilt 

When  he  was  dead. 


Who  kiUed  Cock  Robia? 
"I,"  said  the  Sparrow, 

"With  my  bow  and  arrow, 
I  killed  Cock  Robin." 

Who  saw  him  die? 

"I,"  said  the  Fly, 

"  With  my  little  eye, 
I  saw  him  die." 

Who  caught  his  blood? 

"I,"  said  the  Fish, 

"With  my  little  dish, 
I  caught  his  blood." 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Wbo'll  make  his  shroud  ? 

"I,"  said  the  Bee  lie, 

"With  my  thread  and  nndle, 
I'll  moke  his  shroud." 

Who'll  dig  his  grave? 

"I,"  said  the  0ml, 

"Withmyspadeandtrowd,  . 
I'll  dig  his  grave." 

Who'll  be  the  parson? 

"1,"  said  the  Rook, 
"With  my  little  book. 
I'll  be  the  parson." 

Who'll  be  the  clerk? 
■'I,"  said  the  Lark, 
"I'll  say  Amen  in  the  dark; 

ni  be  the  clerk." 

Who'll  be  chief  mourner? 
"I,"  said  the  Dove, 
"I  moum  for  my  love; 

I'll  be  chief  n 

Wholl  bear  the  torch? 
"I,"  said  tbelinoet, 
"I'll  come  in  a  minute, 

111  bear  the  torch." 

Who'U  sing  his  dirge? 
"I,"  said  the  thrush, 
"As  I  sing  in  the  bush 

m  sing  his  dirge." 

Who'll  bear  the  pall? 
"We,"  said  the  Wren, 
Both  the  Cock  and  tbe  Hen; 

"We'll  bear  the  paU." 

Who'll  carry  his  coffin? 
"I,"  said  the  Kite, 
"If  it  be  in  the  night, 

I'll  cany  his  coffin." 


Baby-land    - 

Who'U  loU  the  beU? 
"I,"  said  the  Bull, 
"Because  I  can  pull, 

m  toU  the  beD." 

AH  the  birds  of  the  air 

Fell  to  sighing  and  sobbing 
When  they  heard  the  beD  toll 
For  poor  Cock  Robin. 

"Wbich  is  the  way  to  Baby-land?" 
"Any  one  can  tell; 
Up  one  flight. 
To  your  right; 
Please  to  ring  the  belL" 

"What  can  you  see  in  Baby-bnd?" 
"Little  folks  in  white — 
Downy  beads, 
Faces  pure  and  bright! " 

"What  do  they  do  in  Baby-land?" 
"Dream  and  wake  and  play, 

Laugh  and  crow, 

Shout  and  grow; 
Jglly  times  have  theyl" 

"What  do  they  say  in  Baby-land?" 

"Why,  the  oddest  things; 

Might  as  well 

Try  to -tell 
What  a  birdie  sings!" 

"Who  is  the  Queen  of  Baby-Jand?" 
"Mother,  lund  and  sweet; 
And  her  love. 
Born  above, 
Guides  the  little  feet." 

GtoTge.  Cooper  ( 1 840- 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


TBere  once  was  a  wood,  and  a  very  thick  wood, 
So  thick  that  to  walk  was  as  much  as  you  could; 
But  a  sunbeam  got  in,  and  the  trees  understood. 

I  went  to  this  wood,  at  the  end  of  the  sdows, 

And  as  I  was  walking  I  saw  a  primrose; 

Only  one!    Shall  I  show  you  the  place  where  it  grows? 

There  once  was  a  house,  and  a  very  dark  house, 

As  dark,  I  believe,  as  the  hole  o(  a  mouse, 

Or  a  tree  in  my  wood,  at  the  thick  of  the  boughs. 

I  went  to  this  house,  and  I  searched  it  aright, 

I  opened  the  chambers,  and  I  found  a  light; 

Only  one!    Shall  I  show  you  this  little  lamp  bright? 

There  once  was  a  cave,  and  this  very  dark  cave 

One  day  took  a  gift  from  an  incoming  wave; 

And  I  made  up  my  mind  to  know  what  the  sea  gave. 

I  took  a  lit  torch,  I  walked  round  the  ness 
When  the  water  was  lowest;  and  in  a  recess 
In  my  cave  was  a  jewel.   Will  nobody  guess? 

0  there  was  a  baby,  he  sat  on  my  knee. 

With  a  pearl  in  his  mouth  that  was  precious  to  me. 
His  tittle  dark  mouth  like  my  cave  of  the  seal 

1  said  to  my  heart,  "And  my  jewel  is  bright! 

He  blooms  like  a  primrose!    He  shines  like  a  light!" 
Put  your  hand  in  his  mouth!    Do  you  feel?    He  can  bite! 

William  Brighty  Rands  [iSaj-iSSil 


Baby  wants  hb  breakfast, 

Oh!  what  shall  I  do? 
Said  the  cow,  "I'll  give  hitn 

Mice  fresh  milk — moo-i»>/" 


The  Moon 

Said  the  hen,  "Cut-<^  cutt 
I  have  kud  an  e^ 

For  the  Baby's  breakfast- 
Take  it  Dov,  I  b^!" 

And  the  buz^g  bee  said, 

"Here  is  honey  sweet. 
Don't  you  think  the  Baby 

Would  Uhe  that  to  eat?" 

Then  the  balcer  kindly 

Brought  the  Baby's  bread. 
"Breakfast  is  all  ready," 

Baby's  mother  said; 

"But  before  the  Baby 

Eats  his  <iainty  food, 
Wai  he  not  aay  'Thank  youl' 

To  his  friends  so  good?" 

Then  the  lM>nny  Baby 

Laughed  and  laughed  away.  i 

That  ivas  all  the  "Thank  you" 

He  knew  how  to  say. 

Emilie  Potilssoit  tiS53> 


O,  LOOK  at  the  moon  I 

She  is  shining  up  there; 
O  mother,  she  looks 
Like  a  lamp  in  the  air. 

Last  week  she  was  smaller. 
And  shaped  like  a  bow; 

But  now  she's  grown  bigger, 
And  round  as  an  0. 

Pretty  moon,  pretty  moon, 
How  you  ^ine  on  the  door, 

And  make  it  all  bright 
On  my  nursery  floor  I 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

You  shine  on  my  playthiog^t 

And  show  me  their  p\a£0, 
And  I  love  to  krak  up 

At  your  pretty  bright  face. 

And  there  is  a  star 

Close  by  you,  and  maybe 
That  small  twinkling  star 

Is  your  little  baby. 

Eliza  La  Fatten  I1787-18J5I 

Brow  bender,  Eye  peeper, 
Nose  smeller.  Mouth  eater. 
Chin  chopper, 

Knock  at  the  door— peep  in, 
Lift  up  the  latch — ^walk  in.^ 

Hebe  mIs  the  Lord  Mayor,  here  sit  his  two  men. 
Here  sits  the  cock,  and  here  sits  the  hen; 
Here  sit  the  chickens,  and  here  they, 
Chippety,  chippety,  chippety,  chin. 

This  little  pig  went  to  market; 

This  litUe  pig  stayed  at  home; 

This  little  pig  got  roast  beef; 

This  little  pig  got  none; 

This  little  pig  cried  wee,  wee,  all  the  way  home. 

One,  two. 
Buckle  my  shoe; 

Three,  four. 

Shut  the  door; 

Five,  six, 

Pick  up  sticks; 

Seven,  eight, 

Lay  them  straight; 

Nine,  ten, 

A  good  fat  hen; 

Eleven,  twdve. 

Who  will  delve? 


Foot  Soldiers 

Thirteen,  fourteen, 
Maids  a-cowting; 
Fifteen,  sixteen. 
Maids  a-kissing; 
Seventeen,  eighteen. 
Maids  a-waiting; 
Nineteen,  twenty. 
My  stomach's  anpty. 


&<»T  fingers, 

Ten  toes, 
Two  eyes. 

And  one  nose. 

Laura  E.  Richards  (1850- 

"Tis  all  the  way  to  Toe-town, 

Beyond  the  Knee-high  hill. 
That  Baby  has  to  travel  down 

To  see  the  soldiers  drill. 

Om,  two,  three,  four,  five,  arrow— 

A  captain  obd  tua  men — 
And  OD  the  other  adt,  you  know, 

Arc  MS,  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten. 

JefmBanisUr  Tabb  (i845-i9«ol 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


A  WAS  an  Archer,  who  shot  at  a  frog; 
B  was  a  Butcher,  who  had  a  great  dog; 
C  was  a  Captain,  all  covered  with  lace; 
D  was  a  Drunkard,  and  had  a  red  face; 
£    was  an  Esquire;  with  pride  on  his  brow; 
F  was  a  Fanner,  and  followed  the  plow; 
G  was  a  Gamester,  who  had  but  ill  luck; 
H  was  a  Hunter,  who  hunted  a  buck; 
I  was  an  Innkeeper,  who  loved  to  bouse; 
J  was  a  Joiner,  who  built  up  a  house; 
K  was  a  King,  so  mighty  and  grand; 
L  was  a  Lady,  who  had  a  white  hand ; 
M  was  a  Miser,  and  hoarded  his  gold; 
N  was  a  Nobleman,  gallant  and  bold; 
0  was  an  Oysterman,  who  went  about  town; 
P  was  a  Parson,  and  wore  a  black  gown; 
Q  was  a  Quack,  with  a  wonderful  pill; 
R  was  a  Robber,  who  wanted  to  kill; 
S  was  a  Sailor,  who  spent  all  he  got; 
T  was  a  Tinker,  and  mended  a  pot; 
U  was  an  Usurer,  a  miserable  elf; 
V  was  a  Vintner,  who  drank  all  himself; 
W  was  a  Watchman,  who  guarded  the  door; 
X  was  Expensive,  and  so  became  poor? 
y  was  a  Youth,  that  did  not  bvc  school; 
Z  was  a  Zany,  a  poor  harmless  fooh 


Three  little  words,  you  often  see. 

Are  articles  A,  An,  and  The. 

A  Noun  is  the  name  of  anything, 

As  School,  or  Garden,  Hoop,  or  Swing. 

Adjectives  tell  the  kind  of  Noun, 

As  Great,  Small,  Pretty,  White,  or  Brown. 

Instead  of  Nouns  the  Pronouns  stand. 

Her  head.  His  face,  Your  arm,  My  hand. 


The  Garden  Year 

Verbs  tell  of  something  being  dime — 
To  Read,  Count,  Laugh,  Sing,  Jump,  or  Ri 
How  things  are  done  the  Adverbs  tell, 
As  Slowly,  Quidcly,  HI,  or  Well. 
Conjunctions  join  the  words  together — 
As  men  And  women,  wind  And  weather, 
The  Preposition  stands  before 
A  noun,  as  In  or  Through  tt  door, 
The  Inteijection  shows  surprise, 
As  Oh!  bow  pretty!    M!  how  wise! 
The  Whole  are  called  nine  parts  of  speech, 
Which  reading,  writing,  speaking  teach. 

-       DAYS  OF  THE  MONTH 

TtaBTV  days  hath  September, 
April,  June,  and  November; 
All  the  rest  have  thirty-one; 
February  twenty-eight  alone, — 
Except  in  leap  year,  at  which  time 
February's  days  are  twenty-nine. 


January  brings  the  snow, 
Makes  our  feet  and  fingers  glow. 

February  brings  the  rain. 
Thaws  the  frozen  lake  again. 

March  brings  breezes,  loud  and  shrill. 
To  stir  the  dancing  daffodil. 

April  brings  the  primrose  sweet. 
Scatters  dabies  at  oui  feet 

May  brings  flocks  of  pretty  lambs 
Skipping  by  their  fleecy  dams. 

June  brings  tulips,  lilies,  roses. 

Fills  the  childrra's  hands  with  posies. 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Hot  July  brings  cooling  showers, 
Apricots,  and  gillyflowers. 

August  brings  the  sheaves  of  aan, 

Then  the  harvest  home  is  bome. 

Warm  September  brings  the  fruit; 
Sportsmen  then  begin  to  shoot. 

Fresh  October  brings  the  pheasant; 
Then  to  gather  nuts  is  pleasant. 

Dull  November  brings  the  blast; 
Then  the  leaves  are  whirling  fast. 

Chill  December  brings  the  sleet. 
Blazing  fire,  and  Christmas  treat. 

Sara  Cahridge  Ii8oi-i8si) 


There  was  a  girt  in  our  town, 

Silk  an'  satin  was  her  gown, 

Silk  an'  satin,  gold  an'  velvet, 

Guess  her  name,  three  times  I've  telled  it.    (Ann.) 

As  soft  as  silk,  as  white  as  milk, 

As  bitter  as  gall,  a  thick  green  wall, 

And  a  green  coat  covers  me  all.     (A  walnut.) 

Make  three  fourths  of  a  cross. 

And  a  circle  complete; 
And  let  two  semicircles 

On  a  perpendicular  meet; 
Next  add  a  triangle 

That  stands  on  two  feet; 
Next  two  semidrcles. 

And  a  circle  ramiJete.     (TOBACCtt) 

Flour  of  Eof^d,  fruit  of  Spain, 
Met  together  in  a  shower  of  rain; 
Put  in  a  bag  tied  round  with  a  string, 
If  you'll  tell  me  this  riddle,  I'll  give  you  a  ring. 
(A  phim-pudding.) 


Riddles  63 

In  marUe  walls  as  white  as  milk, 

Lined  with  a  skin  as  soft  as  alk, 

Within  a  founlain  crystal  dear, 

A  gDlden  appk  doth  a^iear. 

No  doois  there  are  to  this  stronghold, 

Yet  thieves  break  in  and  steal  the  gold.  (An  egg.) 

Little  Nanny  Etticoat, 

In  a  white  petticoat, 

And  a  red  nose; 

TTie  longer  she  stands, 

The  shorter  she  grows.  (A  candle.) 

Long  legs,  crooked  thighs, 

little  head  and  no  eyes.  (A  pair  of  tongs.) 

Thirty  white  horses  upon  a.  red  hill, 
Now  they  tramp,  now  they  champ,  now  they  stand  stfll, 
(The  teeth.) 
Fonned  long  ago,  yet  made  to-day. 

Employed  while  others  sleep; 
What  few  would  like  to  give  away, 

Nor  any  wish  to  keep.  (A  bed.) 

Lives  in  winter, 
Dies  in  summer. 
And  grows  with  its  root  upwards.  (An  icicle.)  ' 

Hiiabeth,  Lizzy,  Betsy  and  Bess, 
All  went  together  to  seek  a  bird's  nest; 
They  found  a  nest  with  five  eggs  in  it; 
They  each  took  one  and  left  four  in  it. 

Thomas  a  Tattamus  took  two  T's, 

To  tie  two  tups  to  two  tall  trees, 

To  fri^ten  the  terrible  Thomas  a  Tattamus! 

Tell  me  how  many  T's  there  are  in  all  THATl 

Old  Mother  Twitchett  had  but  one  eye. 

And  a  long  tail  which  she  let  fly; 

.\nd  every  time  she  went  over  a  gap. 

She  left  a  bit  of  ber  tail  in  a  trap.  (A  rkeedle  and  thread.) 

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64  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

As  I  went  through  a  garden  gap. 

Who  should  I  meet  but  Dick  Red-C^! 

A  stick  in  his  hand,  a  stone  in  his  throat, 

If  you'll  tell  me  this  riddle,  I'll  give  you  a  groat. 

Humpty  Dympty  sat  on  a  wall, 
Humpty  Dumpty  had  a  great  fall ; 
All  the  king's  horses  and  at!  the  king's  men 
Cannot  put  Humpty  Dumpty  together  again.    (An  egg.) 

As  I  was  going  to  St,  Ives, 
I  met  a  man  with  seven  wives, 
Every  wife  had  seven  sacks, 
Every  sack  had  seven  cats, 
Every  cat  had  seven  kits- 
Kits,  cats,  sacks,  and  wives, 
Ho-v  many  were  going  to  St.  Ives?     (One.) 

Two  legs  sat  upon  three  legs, 
With  one  leg  in  his  lap; 
In  comes  four  legs 
And  runs  away  with  one  leg; 
Up  jumps  two  legs, 
Catches  up  three  legs, 
Throws  it  after  four  legs, 
And  makes  him  drop  one  leg. 

(A  man,  a  stool,  a  leg  of  mutton,  and  a  dog.) 


If  wishes  were  horses. 

Beggars  would  ride; 
If  turnips  were  watches, 

I'd  wear  one  by  my  side. 

A  MAN  ot  words,  and  not  of  deeds, 

Is  like  a  garden  full  of  weeds; 
For  when  the  weeds  begin  to  grow, 
Then  doth  the  garden  overflow. 




He  that  yrould  thrive  .  j  ;,  .;■■■■■' 

Mu9t  rise  at  fiv«;  .  ,  r.  ■! 

He  that-bath  thriven 

MayfietitittYcii;   '  ..  -,       -•■  ' 

And  be  that  byfim  plaugli  w4^Mld  tbrjye^  i 
HoBaeUoiust  father  hol4.'Oi^;drive.      ,.      ' 

A  SWARM  of  bees  in  May 

b  worth  a  load  of  hay; 

A  swarm  of  bees  in  June 

Is  worth  a  silver  spoon;  -  / 

A  swaim  of  bees  in  July 

Is  not  worth  a  fly. 

They  that  wash  on  Monday 
Have  all  the  week  to  dry; 

Needies  and  pins,  needles  and  pJnS,'  '  ■ 
When  a  man  miarries,  his  troubtu  begins. 

Foe  every  evil  lihdei'  the  Bim.  . 
There  is  a  retn^,  or  there  Ss  none. 
If  there  be  pnci  try  and  &ad  iti 
If  there  be  none,  never  miofl  iti 

Tommy's  tears,  and  Mary's  fears, 
Will  mate  ^em  oldbatere  tlj^ir  years. 

Ip  "ifs"and  ^'aoflsf  i  i  ;.  -. 

Were  peti  end  luaifc,:  "-  '  ' .' 

There  would  be-no  inaediortihksnti': 

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Poems  of  Yoaril  and  Age 

Fob  want  of  a  nail,  the  stuH  was  test;  '  i  1 1 
For  want  of  the  shoe,  the  horse  was  ioat;  : 
For  want  of  the  horse,  the  rider  was  Mt;  ' 
For  want  of  the  rider,  the  battle 'Was  ki9t;l 
Fw  wdnt  of  Die  bkttle,  the  klngaoiii  was  Id 
And  all  from  the  want  of  a  koiwafebe  oM. 


A  svmaiti^ showw  .  -i 

Won't  laat  half  aa  how.     .    ■  / 

■  .  -I 

Rain  before  seven, 

Fairfcy  ^c^'™-  ' 

The  South  wind  brings  wet  itreather,  ' ' 
The  North  wind  wet  and  cold  togbtiei^ 
The  West  wind  always  brings  us  nlA,"  '■ 
The  East  wind  bWs  h  back  again.    '  ' 

Mabch  winds  and  April  sfioWcrs'     ' ' 
Bring  forth  May  floWcrs.  ' 

Evening  red  and  taomlng  gray'     ■  / 
Set  the  traveller  on  his  way,  ' 

.  But  eveoipg  gray  and  morning  red,  ^^ 
.£rii%  the  rain  upon  hisbead. 

RADfBcnr  at  night 
Ib  the  sailor's  delight; 
Rainbow  at  morning,  1 1 

S^ors,  take  warning.  <  1 


See  a  pin  and  pick  it  up,     '         " 
All  the  day  you'll  have  good  kick;  > 
S^  a  jm  and  lebit  layv 
Bad  luck  you  will  have  all  day. 

p:hy  Google 

Old  Superstitions  ( 

Cut  your  nails  on  Monday,  cut  them  for  news; 
Cut  them  on  Tuesday,  a  pair  of  new  shoes; 
Cut  them  on  Wednesday,  cut  them  for  health; 
Cut  them  on  Thursday,  cut  them  for  wealth; 
Cut  them  on  Friday,  cut  them  for  woe; 
'  C<iLtheinot$4t\irdai',a  joUtneyyoil'li;io;[.  ''I' 
Cut  them  on  Sunday,  you'll  cut  them  for  evil, 
For  ftll  the  nejtt,  week  yfni'U  ^Jj^l^y  tji^/devH. 

Sneeze  on  a  Monday,  you  sneeze  for  darigerj. 
Sneeze  on  a  Tuesday,  you'll  kiss  a  stranger;  ' 
Sneeze  on  a  Wednesda_y,  yoii  sneeze  for  a  letter; 
Sneeze  on  a  Thursday'  for  somctfu'ng  better;' 
Sneeze  on  a  Friday,  you  shteze  for  sorrow; 
Sneeze  on  a  Saturday,  your  swcelhearl  to-morro'n 
Sneeze  on  a  Sunday,  your  safely  seek — 
The  devil  will  have  you  the  whole  of  the  week. 

MoNDAV'schildls  fair  of  face,"  '  '  ''  '     '    '■ 
Tuesday's  child  is  full  of  gradi. 
Wednesday 's  child  is  fill!  of  -^oc,  '      ' 

Thursday's  child  has  far  to  go,  '' 

Friday's  child  is  loving  and  giving, 
Saturday's  child  works 'hard  for  its  liVing," 
And  a  child  that's  born  on  thc'SabbalH'dity 
Is  fair  and  wise  and  good  and  gay.    '    ' '  '  ' 

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Wynken,  Blynken,  and  Nod  one  night 

Sailed  off  in  a  wooden  shoe, — 
Sailed  on  a  river  of  crystaf  light 

Into  a  sea  of  dew. 
"Wfiere  are  you  going,  and  what  do  you  wish?" 

The  old  moon  laughed  and  sang  a  song. 

As  they  rocked  in  the  wooden  shoe;  . , 

And  the  wind  that  sped  them  all  night  long 

Ruffied  the  waves  of  dew. 
The  little  stars  were  the  herring  fish 
That  lived  in  thai  beautiful  sea — 
"Now  cast  your  nets  wherever  you  wish, — 
Never  afeard  are  we!" 
So  cried  the  stars  to  the  fishermen  three, 
And  Nod. 

All  night  long  their  nets  they  threw 
To  the  stars  in  the  twinkling  foam, — 

Then  down  from  the  akies  came  the  wooden  shoe, 
Bringing  the  fishermen  home; 

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The  Sugar-Plum  Tree   .  69 

Twas  all  so  pretty  a  sail,  it  seemed  .  ■     ' 

As  if  it  could  not'be; 
And  some  folk  thought  'twas  a  dream  tb^'d  dreamed.  I 
Of  sailing  that  beautiful  sea;  / 

But  I  shall  name  you  the  tehermen  three:  ./ 

Wynken,  ■   ' 

BIy  liken, 
And  Nod. 

Wynken  aad  Blynken  aie  tnto  liule  eyes*  r' 

And  Nod  is  a  little  head. 
And  the  wooden  ^oe  that  sailed  the  glues 

Is  a  wee  one's  trundle-bed; 
So  shut  your  eyes  while  Mother  ^ngs  ,  j 

Of  wonderful  sights  that  be, 
And  you  shall  see  the  beautiful  things 
As  you  rock  in  the  miaty  sea  .    . 

Where  the  old  sbo«  rocked  the  fisbennen  three: — 
And  Nod. 

Eitene  Pidd  [iSso-iSoj] 

Have  you  ever  heard  of  the  Sugar-Plum  Tree? 

Tis  a  marvel  of  great  renown! 
It  bknma  on  the  sboce  of  the  Loltypop  sea 

In  the  garden  of  9iut-Eye  Town; 
Hie  fniit  that  it  beam  is  ao  wondrously  sweet 

(As  those  who  have  tasted  it  say) 
That  good  little  children  have  only  to  eat 

Of  that  fruit  to  be  h^py  neat  d^. 

When  you've  got  to  the  tree,  you  would  have  a  hard  time 

To  capture  the  fruit  which  I  sing; 
The  tree  is  so  tall  that  no  person  could  climb 

To  the  boughs  where  the  sugar-plums  swing! 
Bnt  up  in  that  tree  sits  a  chocolate  cat, 

And  a  ^ngCrbread  dog  prowls  below — 
And  this  is  the  way  you  contrive  to  get  at 

Thoae  sugar-plums  tempting  you  so: 


ycf'  Poeiai  of  Youth  and  Age 

You  say  but  the  word  'to  that  gingerbread  dog  .  ,  ' 

And  be  barks  wilb  such  terrible  zest 
Thbt.thedbdt^]atece.t  isat  cmcealla^Og,  .,> 

As  her  swelling  proportioas  attest. 
Aod  the  chocolate  cat  goes  cavorting  around  ^ 

From  this  leafy  limb  unto  that,  ■, 

And  the  sugar-plums  tumble,  of  course,  lo  the  ground — 

Hurrah  for  that  chocolate  cati 

There  are  marshmdiows,  gomdrops,  and  ptppttaant  cattes. 

With  stripings  of  scarlet  or  gold,  .    [    . 

And  you  carry  avay  of  the  treasure  that  rune, 

As  much  as  your  apron  can  hold! 
So  come,  little  child,  cuddle  doser  to  me  -. 

In  your  dainty  white  nightcap  land  gown,  i'  - 

And  I'll  rock  you  away  to  that  Sugar-Plum  Tree 

In  the  garden  of  Shut-Eye  Town. 

Bigena  FiM  [i&sti-i^s] 


'  When  the  Sleepy  Man  comes  with  the  dust  on  his  eyes, 

(Oh,  weary,  wy  Deape,  6ft  weao'l) 
He  shuts  up  the  earth,  and  he  opens  the  skies. 

(So  Iiush-a-by,  weary  my  Dearie!)  '     ''.  '       ■ ' 

He  smiles  through  his  fingers,  and  shuts  up  tlwsuaf' ''  :| 
{Oh,  weary,  my  Dearie,  so  weary!)  •'     I 

The  stars  that  he  loves  he  lets  out  one  by  ionc  ■-,'•. 

(So  h«sh-a-by,  weary  my  Dearief) 

He  comes  from  the  castlea'of  Drowsy-lwy  Tovmi ,   ■   ■  , 

.    (Oh,  weary,  my  Dearie,  so  weary!) 
'At  the  touch  of  his  hand  the  lired  eyelids  fall  dowtu'       ' 
(So  hush-a-by,  weary  my  Dearie!) 

He  comes  with  a  munnur  of  dream  in  his  wings;' 

(Oh,  weary,  my  Dearie,  so  weary!)-  ■•         '■ 

And  whispers  of  mermaids  and  wonderful  ddngl.    -    ' 
{So  hush-a-by,  wearymy  Dearie!) 


■  .AvMi-D'sdAyf  Durkmess:  :7 

Then  the  top  is  a  burden,  the  bugle  a  bane; 

(Oh,  weary,  in>"liearie,'so  weiry!) 
When  one  would  be  faring  down.  Dreaaj-a-way,  Lane. 

{So  hush-a-by,  weary  my  Dearie!)  , 

When  one  would  be  wending  in  Lullaby  Wheny,  ,  '. 

(Oh,  weary,  my  Dearie,  so  weary!) 
To  Sleepy  Man 's  Castle,  by  CoUfoBting  Ferry- 

(So  hush-arby,  weary  my  Deajie!) 

Cbarla  a.  D.  Rab»li  (iS6o-     ' 


See  him  in  the  comers  hidin'  Crae  the  licht. 
See  him  at  the  window  gloomin'  at  the  nicht; 
Turn  up  the  gas  Itcht,  close  the  shutters  a', 
An'  Auld  Daddy  Darkness  will  flee  far  awa'. 

Awa.'  ^re^^ti 

For  A  '    .'   ,,   . 

He  comes  when  we're  weary  to  wean's  frac  oor  wacs,. 
He  comes  when  the  baimies  are  getting  afl  their  claea; 
To  cover  them  sae  cosy,  an'  bring  .boonie  dteanis, 
So  Auld  Daddy  Darkness  is  belter  than  he  seems. 

Sleek  yereen,  my  wee  tot,  ye '11  see  Daddy  then; 
He's  in  below  the  bed  elaes,  to  cuddle  ye  he 's  foia; 
Noo  nestle  to  his  bosie,  sleep  and  dream  yer  fill,    .     '' 
Till  Wee  Davie  DayUchtcomcs  keekin' owreiiie'hill.    ' 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Wee  Willie  Winkie  rins  through  the  town, 

Upstairs  and  doon  staira,  in  his  nicht-gown, 

Tirlin'  at  the  window,  cryin'  at  the  lock, 

"Are  the  weans  in  their  bed?— for  it's  noo  ten  o'dock." 

Hey,  Willie  Winkie  I  are  ye  comin'  ben? 

The  cat's  singin'  gay  thrums  to  the  deefan'  hen. 

The  dou^'s  speldered  on  the  door,  and  disna  gie  a  cheep; 

But  here's  a  waukrife  laddie,  that  winna  fa'  asleep. 

Ouything  but  sleep,  ye  rogue! — glowrio'  Uke  the  moon, 
Rattlin'  in  an  airn  jug  wi'  an  airn  spooD, 
Rumbiin',  tumbltn'  roun'  about,  crawin'  like  a  cock, 
Skirlin'  like  a  keona-what— wauknin'  sleepin'  folk! 

Hey,  Willie  Winkie!  the  wean's  in  a  creel! 
Waumblin'  alT  a  bodic's  knee  like  a  vera  eel, 
Ruggin'  at  the  cat's  lug,  and  ravellin'  a'  her  thrums; 
Hey,  Willie  Winkie!— See,  there  he  comes! 

Willuim  ifiUer  [igto-iS?)) 

The  rosy  clouds  float  overhead, 

The  sun  b  going  down ; 
And  now  the  sandman's  gentle  tread 

Comes  stealing  through  the  town. 
"White  sand,  \i^ite  sand,"  he  softly  cries, 

And  as  he  shakes  his  hand. 
Straightway  there  lies  on  babies'  eyes 

His  gift  of  shilling  sand. 
Blue  eyes,  gray  eyes,  black  eyes,  and  brown, 
As  shuts  the  rose,  they  softly  close,  when  he  goes  through 
the  town. 

Fromtunny  beachea  far  away — 

Yes,  in  another  land — 
He  gathets  up  at  break  of  day 
1  His  store  of  ■♦'■"■"g  aand. 


The  Duttman  I  73 

No  tempests  beat  that  shore  remote,  '' 

No  ships  may  sail  that  way; 
His  little  boat  alone  may  float  i 

Within  that  lovely  bay. 
Blue  eyes,  gray  eyes,  black  eyes,  and  brown, 
.\s  shuts  the  rose,  they  softly  dose,  when  he  goes  Ihrough 
the  town. 

He  smiles  to  see  the  eyehds  dose         ' 

Above  the  happy  eyes; 
And  every  diiW  right  wbll  he  kOons, — 

Oh,  be  is  vary  wise!  I 

But  if,  as  he  goes  through  the  land, 

A  naughty  baby  cries, 
His  other  hand  takes  dull  gray  sand 

To  dose  the  wakeful  eyes. 
Blue  eyes,  gray  ey«,  black  tyts,  and  bnywn, 
As  shuts  the  rose,  they  softly  dose,  when  he  goes  through 
the  town. 

So  when  you  heai  the  sandman^  song 

Sound  through  the  twilight  sweet, 
Be  sure  you  do  not  keep  him  long  i 

A-waiting  in  the  stKet. 
Lie  softly  down,  dear  little  heiid. 

Rest  quiet,  busy  handa. 
Till,  by  your  bed  his  good-oight  said,  : 

He  strews  the  shining  saoda. 
Blue  eyes,  gray  eyes,  bladi  eyes,  and  brows,. 
As  shuts  the  rose,  they  softly  dose,  when  he  goes  thiougb 

the  town.  '' 

Mofgani  ThaiKcn  Jtnritr  [Umifigti] 


Whek  the  toys  are  growmg  woary, 
And  the  twilight  gathers  in; 

When  the  nursery  still  echoes' 
With  the  ddldren's  merry  dm; 


Poems  of  Yoilth  ahd  Age 

Then  unseen,  unheard,  unnoticed 

Comes  a.n  old  man  up  the  stair, 
Lightly  to  the  children  passes, 

Lays  his  hand  upon  their  hair. 

SofUy  smiles  the  good  old  Dustman; 

In  their  eyes  the  dust  he  throws. 
Till  their  little  heads  are  falling, 

And  their  weary  eyes  must  dose. 
Then  the  Dustman  very  genlly 

Takes  each  little,  dimj^ed  band 
Leads  tbem  through  the  sweet  green  shadows, 

Far  away  in  slumberland. 

Predtric  Edward  Weaiberly  [1848^  . 


From  "  Meaophoa  " 

Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee; 
When  thou  art  old  there's  grief  ^cn^  forthMJ. 

Mother's  wag,  pretty  boy, 

Father's  sonow,  Father's  jOy; 

When  thy  father  first  did  see      ;  ■  ' 

Such  a  boy  by  him  and  me. 

He  was  glad,  I  was  woe; 

Fortune  changed  made  hun  10, ' 

When  he  left  his  pretty  boy. 

Last  his  scttow,  first  his  joy. 

Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  kna^^ .    , 
When  thou  art  old  there's  grief  enough  for  thee. 

Streaming  tears  that  never  stint, 

Like  pearl-drops  from  a  flint. 

Fell  by  course  from  hjs,(^es. 

That  one  another's  place  supplies; 
,  Thus  he  grieved  in  every  part,    ' 

Tears  of  blood  fell  from  hisb^rt. 

When  he  left  his  pretty  boy,..- ,; 

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy,. 


"Sleep,  .Babyt,  Sleep"  ,'i  7ij 

Weep  not,  mjn  wantDO,  smile  upon  itiy.knbe; 

When  thou  art  oid  there  ^  grief  enough  for  thee. 
The  wanton  srafled,  father  wept,     1 
Mother  died,  baby  leapt;  1 1 

More  he  tnxMved-j  more  we  cndd^  ■'■ 
>bttire  could  not  soiniw  hide:   i      I 
He  must  go,  he  must  kiss 
Child  and  mother,,  baby  bliss. 
For  he  left  his  pretty  boy,  ;' 

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy. 

Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee, 

When  thou  art  oid  there's  grief  enough  for  thee, 

Robert  Gttaiit{i$(ibl~isii3\ 


Golden  slumbers  kiss  your  eyes. 
Smiles  awake  you  when  you  rise. 
Sleep,  pretty  tratitona^dinat'Wyr'   '' 
Andl  wiU'singahdlaby.  I 

Rock  th«m,  TDck  th^m,  lulhkby:  '      .'' 

Care  is  heavy,! tbercfore  sleep  you^> 
You  at)e  caiie,  ^nd  care  must  keep  youJ 
Sleep,  pretty  wantons,  do  not  cry, 
And  I  will  sing  a  lullaby.  '  ' 

Rock  them,  rock  them,  lullaby. 

.    Tkomo)  Dekk«e  [15707-1641?) 

"SLEE^, '  BABY,  SLEEP"       '  1 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep!  what  aUs  my«teiat,'. 

Whataili  my  darling  thus  to  cry?/ 
Be  still,  my  child,  and'lend  thine  fM,-   ' 
-  To  hear  me  sfog  th^  hillal^.  ,        l 
My  pretty  larhb,  forbear  to  ?»eep;  '   >   ' 
Be  atfll,  my  ^Jear;  sweet  baby,  sictpi    -'  1 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Thou  blessed  sool,  what  canst  thoa  fearP 
What  thing  to  thee  can  mischief  do^ 

Thy  God  is  now  thy  father  dear, 
His  holy  Spouse  thy  motiier  too. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 

Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  aleqi. 

Though  thy  conception  was  in  sin, 
A  sacred  bathing  thou  hast  had; 

And  though  thy  birth  unclean  hath  been, 
A  blameless  babe  thou  art  now  made. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 

Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

While  thus  thy  lullaby  I  sing. 

For  thee  great  blessings  ripening  be; 

Tlitne  Eldest  Brother  is  a  king, 
And  hath  a  kingdom  bought  for  thee. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 

Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Sweet  baby,  sleep,  and  nothing  fear; 

For  whosoever  thee  offends 
By  thy  protector  threatened  are, 

And  God  and  angeb  are  thy  friends. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 
Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  deep. 

When  God  with  us  was  dwellmg  here, 
In  little  babes  He  took  dehght; 

Such  inoocents  as  thou,  my  dear, 
Are  ever  precious  in  His  sight. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 

Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

A  Uttle  infant  once  was  He; 

And  strength  in  weakness  then  <hb&  laid 
Upon  His  Viigin  Mother's  knee, 

That  power  to  thee  mlghtbe  conveyed. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 
Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 


. .    .Mother's  Song  ,77 

In  this  thy  fraUty  and  thy  need 
He  friencb  and  helpers  doth  pnpaie, 

Which  thee  shall  cherish,  clothe,  and  feed, 
For  of  thy  weal  they  tender  aie. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 

Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

liie  Eing  (rf  Kings  when  He  was  bom. 

Had  not  so  much  for  outward  ease; 
By  Him  such  dressings  were  not  wom,    ■ 

Nor  such  like  swaddling-clothes  a^  thfese. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 
Be  stiil,  my  babe;  sweet  baby  sle^. 
Within  a  manger  lodged  thy  Lord, 

Where  oxen  lay  and  asses  fed: 
Warm  rooms  we  do  to  thee  afford, 

An  easy  oradle  Jbr  a  bed. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 
Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sle^ 
The  wants  that  He  did  then  sustain 

Have  purchased  wealth,  my  babe,  for  thee, 
And  by  His  torments  and  His  pain 

Thy  test  and  ease  securM  be. 
My  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep; 
Be  still,  lay  babe;  aweet  baby,  sleep. 

Thou  hast,  yet  more,  to  perfect  this 

A  promne  and  an  earnest  got 
Of  gaining  everlasting  blisG, 

llMUgfa  tl»u,  my  babe,  perceiv'st  it  not. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  we^; 
Be  still,  my  babe;  sweet  baby,  sleep.  ' 

Gtorge  Wither  I158S-1667I 

My  heart  is  like  a  fountain  tme 
That  Sows  and  flows  with  love  to  you. 
As  cbitps  the  lark  unto  the  tree 
So  diirps  my  pretty  babe  to  me. 
And  it's  01  sweet,  sweet!  aod  a  IgUaby. 


Poems  of'  Vouch  and  Age 

There's  not  a  rose  Trhere'er  I  seek,  '     ■! 

As  coioelv  as  my  baby's  cbeek.. 

Tbete's  not  a  comb  of  honey-bee, 

So  full  of  sweets  as  babe  to  me. 

And  it's  01  sweet,  sweeU  and  &  Mlab^- 

There 's  not  a  star  that  shines  on  high, ' ' 

Is  bcighter  thin  ray  babx'4  eye.  r 

There's  not  a  boat  upon  the  sea,        i 

Can  dance  as  baby  does  to  me.  i 

Aad  it's  O!  tweet,  sweet!  and  a  lullaby. 

No  silk  was  ever  spun  so  fine 

As  is  the  hair  of  baby  mine. 

My  baby  smells  more  sweet  to  me         7 

Than  smells  in  spring  the  elder  tree. 

And  it's  O!  sweet,  eweetl  and  a  luUaio';,' 

A  little  fish  snims  hi  the  well, 

So  in  ray  heart  does  baby  dwell. 

A  little  flower  blows  on  the  tree. 

My  baby  is  the  flower  to  mo. 

And  it's  0!  sweet,  sweet!  and  a  lullaby. 

I'he  Queen  has  scejUre,  cnwn  and  ball,' 

You  are  my  sceptre,  ciown  and  all. 

For  all  her  robes  of  royal  silk, 

More  fair  your  sicin,  as  white  as  milk.  •  ■ 

And  it's  O!  sweet,  sweet!  and  a  lullaby. 

Ten  thousand  parks  where  deer  do  run. 

Ten  thousand  roses  in  the  sun,.  .  > 

Ten  thousand  pearb  beneath  the  sea. 

My  babe  more  predous  is  to  me. 

And  it's  O!  sweet,  sweet!  and  a  luUaby. 


Upon  my  lap  my  sovereign  sits 

And  sucks  upon  my  breast; 

M«an«-hile  \aa  bve  Sustains  my  life 

And  gives  my  body  rest. 
Sing  Wfeby,  my  little  boy, ' 
Sing  ItMhy,  adnc  (ffily  jbyl  ' 

p:hy  Google 

When^lbMi  but  Itiim  thy  rapUt,       i 

Repose,  toy  babe,  on  inc;      -    . 

So  may  tky  mediei'  and  tby  ma^' 

Thy  cmdle  atso  hi.    ■    ■ 
Sing  lullaby,  my  iiule  boy, 
Sing  iiUklQ',  arinie  only  joyJ^  7 

I  grieve  that  duty  dott  not  work 

All  that  my  wishing  would, 

Because  I'wouid  not  be  to  thee 

But  in  the  best  I  should. 
Sing  lullaby,  my  liifle  boy, 
Sing  lullaby,  mine  only  |oy! 

Yetias  I  am,<aDd  as  I  may,  .        -  / 

I  must  and  will  be  thine, 

ThoughalitoohtUeforihyse^  ,- 

Voucl^fing  V  be  mine.    .       :    ,.  '; 
Singlvllaby,,ipy!ittte.lfoy,     ;,  ,    'i 
Sing  iifjjaby,  BHne  only  ioy! 

Richard  Roviands  [fl.  1565- 

HnSHlmydear,  lie  still  and  shufabtr,   .' 

Holy  angels  guard  thy  bed!     '        // 
Heavenly  blessings  without  number 

Gently  falling  an  thy  head.     ■ 
Sleep,  my  babe;  thy  food  and  ralmeiil!, 

House  and  home,  thy  frifends  provide; 
All  Without  thy  care  or  payment  i 

AU  thy  wants  are  well  supplied. 
How  much  better  thou  'rt  attended     , 

Than  the  Son  of  God  could  be. 
When  from  heaven  He  descended 

And  became  a  child  like  thee  I 
Srftajid  easy  .is  thy  cradle; 

Cowrac  and  hard  thy  Saviour  lay. 
When  Hia  birthplas:*  wjs  a  stable 

AndHissoft«6tbed.washay.       ,  , 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Blessed  babel  what  glorious  featuiea— 

Spotless  fair,  divinuly  bright! 
Must  He  (Iwdl  with  brutal  creatures? 
How  could  angels  bear  the  si^t? 

Was  there  nothing  but  a  manger 

CursM  sinners  could  afford 
To  receive  the  heavenly  stranger? 

Did  they  thus  affront  their  Lord? 

Soft,  my  child:  I  did  not  chide  thee. 
Though  my  song  might  sound  too  hard; 

'Tis  thy  mother  sits  beside  thee, 
And  her  arms  shall  be  thy  guard. 

Yet  to  read  the  shameful  story 
How  the  Jews  abused  tbeir  King, 

How  they  served  the  Lord  of  Glory, 
Makes  me  angry  while  I  sing. 

See  the  kinder  shepherds  round  Him, 

Telling  wonders  from  the  sky! 
niiera  they  aought  Him,  theie  they  fouad  Him 

With  His  Virgin  mother  by. 

See  the  lovely  babe  a-dressing; 

Lovely  infant,  how  He  smiled! 
When  He  wept,  the  mother's  blessing 

Soothed  and  hushed  the  holy  child. 

Twas  to  save  thee,  child,  from  dying, 

Save  my  dear  frwn  burning  flame, 
Bitter  groans  and  endless  crying, 
That  thy  bleat  Redeemer  came. 



May'st  Unw  live  to  know  aod  feu  Him; 

Trust  and  love  Him  4U  thy  dfa^ys;' 
Then  go  dwell  forever  near  Him, 

See  His  face,  and  sihg  His  itTsisel 

Isaac  W<iiti  (i6t4-i 


Sleep,  sleep,  beauty  bright,  , 

Dreaming  in  the  joys  of  night; 
Sleep,  sleep;  in  thy  sleep  \. 

Little  sorrows  sit  and  weep. 

Sweet  babe,  in  thy  face  ..  < 

Soft  desires  I  on  trace. 
Secret  joys  and  secret  smiles, 
Little  pretty  infant  wiles. 

As  thy  softest  limbs  I  feel 
Smiles  as  of  the  moming  steal  " 

O'er  thy  cheek,  and  o'er  thy  breaat 
Where  thy  little  heart  doth  rest. 

O  the  cunning  wiles  that  creep 
In  thy 'little  heart  asleep! 
When  thy  little  heart  doth  wake, 
Then  the  dreadful  night  shall  break. 

Watiam  Blake  [i757-i8i7l 


Baloo,  loo,  lanuny,  now  baloo,  my  dear, 
Does  wee  lammy  ken  that  its  daddy's  no  here? 
Ye 're  rocking  full  sweetly  on  mammy's  warm  knee, 
But  daddy's  a-roiling  upon  the  sah  sea. 

Now  hushaby,  lannny,  now  hushaby,  dter; 

Now  hushaby,  lammy,  lot  mother  is  near. 

The  wild  wind  b  raving,  and  mammy 's heart's  sair; 

The  wild  wind  is  raving,  and  ye  dinna  care. 


8z  Poems  of  Youch'  and  Age 

Sing  baloo,  loo,  laininy,  sing  baloo,  mydearj. 

Sing  baloo,  iooy  lammy,  for  mother  Is  here. 

My  wee  baimie's  dozing,  it's  dozing  now  Aiie, 

And  O  may  its  wakening  be  blither  than  mine! 

i'      '    ■  Carolina  Nairne  I1766-1S45) 


0,  HUSH  tl 

Thy  motht 

The  woods  .  we  see, 

They  are  a 

0,  fear  not  the  bugle,  ^ough  loudly  it  blows. 
It  calls  but  the  warders  that  guard  thy  repose; 
Their  bows  would  be  bended,  their  blades  would  be  red. 
Ere  the  step  of  a  foeman  dtaws  near  Iq  thy  bed. 
0  ho  ro,i  ri  ri,  cadul  gu  lo. 

0,  hush  thee,  my  babic,  the  time  soon  will  come, 
When  thy.gleep.shall  be  broken  by  trumpet ,and  drum; 
Then  hush  thee,  my  darling,  Xake  rest  while  you  may, 
For  strife  comes  with  manhood,  and  waking  with  day. 
O  ho^  TO,  i  ri  ri,  cadul  gu  lo. 


Little  baby,  lay  your  head 

On  your  pretty  cradle-bed; 

Shut  your  eye-peeps,  now  the  day 

And  the  light  are  gone  away; 

All  the  clothes  arc  tucked  in  tight;  ■ 

Little  baby  dear,  good-night. 

Yes,  my  darting,  well  I  know 
How  the  bitter  wind  doth  blow; 
And  the  winter's  snow  and  rain  .  / 

Patter  on  the  window-pane: 
li'      :..     But  they  cannot  come  in  here, 

.  To  my  little  baby  dear.;  :  | 

p:hy  Google 

■  '■■    Lnllaby 183 

For  Qie  'iiindow  ^utteth  fast;     -' 
Till  the  stormy  night  is  past;  i 
And  the  curtains  watm  an  sproad 
Round  about  her  cradle  bed:   1 
So  tiH  morning  shineth  height,     1 
Little  baby  dear,  good-night       ' 

/one  Taylor  I178J-18J4] 


LuHahy!  0  luilaby! 

Hushed  arc  all  things  far  and  nigh;    ' 

Flowers  are  dosing, 

Birds  reposing, 
All  sweet  things  with  life  are  done, ' 
Sweet,  till  dawns  the  morning  sun. 
Sleep,  then  kiss  those  blue  eyes  dry,  '' 

Lullaby!  0  lullaby!  ' 

WHlio^  Cox  Bennett  [1810-189S, 


From  "  The  Friiuxn  " 

Sweet  and  low,  sweet  and  low, 

Wind  of  the  western  sea,         < 
Low,  low,  breathe  and  blow,    ' 

Wind  of  the  western  sea! . 
Over  the  roUtog  waters  go. 
Come  from  the  dying  moon,  and  blow, 

Blow  him  again  to  me; 
While  my  litt],e  one,  while  my  pretty  one,  sleeps. 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Sleep  and  rest,  sleep  and  rest, 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon; 
Rest,  rest,  on  mother's  breast. 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon; 
Father  will  come  to  his  babe  in  the  nest. 
Silver  sails  alt  out  of  the  west 
Under  the  silver  moon: 
Sleep,  my  little  one.  sleep,  my  pretty  one,  sleep. 

At/red  Tennyson  liSoo-iSgi] 


The  kitten  sleeps  upon  the  hearth; 
The  crickets  long  have  ceased  their  mirth; 
There's  nothing  stirring  in  the  house 
Save  one  wee,  hungry,  nibbling  mouse; 
Then  why  so  busy  thou? 

Nay!  start  not  at  that  sparkling  light; 
Tis  but  the  moon  that  shines  so  bright 
On  the  window-pane  bedropped  with  rain; 
There,  little  darling!  sleep  again, 
And  wake  when  it  is  day ! 

Dorothy  Wordivorlli  |t8o4-i 


EvEPY  evening  Baby  goes 

Trot,  trot,  to  town, 
Across  the  river,  through  the  fields, 

Up  hill  and  down. 

Trot,  trot,  the  Baby  goea. 
Up  hill  and  down, 


Holy  Innocents    '  '■  8j 

To  buy  a  feather  for  her  hat, 
To  buy  a  woOleit  gown. 

Trot,  trot,  the  Baby  goes; 

The  birds  fly  d&wD,  alack! 
"You  cannot  hav«  our  feathers,  dear," 

They  say,  "so  please  trot  back." 

Trot,  trot,  the  Baby  goes; 

The  lambs  come  bleating  near. 
"Youcannothaveour  wool,"  they  *ay, 

"But  we  are  sorry,  dear." 

Trot,  trot,  the  Baby  goes, 

Trot,  trot,  to  town; 
She  buys  a  red  rose  for  her  hat. 

She  buys  a  cotton  gown. 

Mary  F.  Bulls  U836- 


SuXP,  little  Baby,  sleep; 

The  holy  Angels  love  thee, 
And  guard  thy  bed,  and  keep 

A  blessed  watch  above  thee. 
No  spirit  can  come  near 

Nor  evil  beast  to  harm  thee:     '   • 
Sleep,  Sweet,  devoid  of  fear 

Where  nothing  need  alarm  thee. 

The  Love  which  doth  not  sleep, 

The  eternal  Arms  surround  thee: 
The  Shepherd  of  the  sheep 

In  perfect  love  hath  found  thee. 
Sleep  through  the  holy  night, 

Girist-kept  from  snare  and  sorrow, 
Until  thou  wake  to  light 

And  love  and  warmth  to-morrow. 

Chrinina  Gevrpna  Rosstlli  [\iiO-i»i>A 


Poem?. of  YoMthl  wd  Age 

Fnm  "  Tbc  Hbtitu  of  tbe  Huk  " 

RoCKABY,  Inllaby,  bees  in  the  cloverl 

Ctooning  so  drowsily,  crying  so  lowj  ' 

Rockaby,  lullaby,  dear  little  roverl 
Down  into  wonderland, 
Down  totheuKder-land  • 

Go,  oh  go! 

Down  into  wonderland  go! 

Rockaby,  lullaby,  rain  on  the  clover! 
(Tears  on  the  eyelids  that  wBver  and  weep!) 
Rockaby,  lullaby — bendinglt  over! 

Down  on  the  mother-world, 

Down  on  the  other  wmtM, 
Sleep,  oh  sleep! 
Down  on  the  mother-world  deep! 

Rockaby,  lullaby,  dew  on  the  dovcr! 
Dew  on  the  eyes  that  will  spacfclc  at  dawn  I 
Rockaby,  lullaby,  dear  little  rarer! 
Into  the  stiiy  world, 
Tnio  the  lily  world, 

GoTve!  oh  gone! 
Into  the  lily  wnrld  com-! 

JosM  GUbtrt  B«a4Kd  [tSig-iSSi] 


Ftofo  ■■  Blltet'SwHI " 

Weat  is  the  little  one  thinking  about? 
Very  wonderful  Ihings,  no  doubt! 

Unwritten  history! .  ^ 

Unlalhomed  mysttryl 
,  Yet  he  laugjis  and  cries,  and  cats  and  drinks, 
And  chuckles  and  crows,  and  nods  and  winks, 


I>;  Cridle  iSang- ■ 


As  if  bis  head  were  as  full  of  kinks     ' 
And  curious  riddles  as  any  sphiitfl 
Warped  by  colic,  and  wet  by  tearsj 
Punctured  by  pins,  and  tDiti»ed  bji  fears, 
■  Our  littte'  nephew  «il!  Igae  two  years ; 
And  he  '11  never  know 
Where.ttcsiupmwsgo;—     . 
He  need  not  laugh,  for  he'll  find  it  sol 

Barks  tfaatiKsre  lamidKd  on  l^e  other'^ide. 
And  slipped  from  Heaven  on  an  ebbing  tide! 

What  does  he  think  of  hbraotherfaiyes? 
What  does  he  tiiink  of  Ws  mother 's  hair? 

What  ot  the  cradle-roof,  thaH  flief    ' '' 
Forward  andbackwaid  through  the  air? 

What  docs  he  think  of  his  mother 's  breast, 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Out  lo  his  little  finger-tipsl  , 
Softly  sinking,  down  he  gotsi 
Down  he  goes!  down  he  goes! 
See!  he  is  hushed  in  sweet  repose!  ' 

/mmJi  Ciibtrl  HtUaud  |iei9-i8gi| 


I  'VE  found  my  bonny  babe  a  nest 

On  Shimber  Tree, 
I'll  rock  you  there  to  rosy  rest, 

Asthore  Machree! 
Oh,  lulla  lo!  nng  all  the  leaves 

On  Slumber  Tree, 
Till  everything  that  hurts  or  grieves 

Afar  must  flee.  ' 

I've  put  my  pretty  child  to  float  j 

Away  from  me, 
Within  the  new  moon 's  silver  boat 

On  Slumber  Sea. 
And  when  your  starry  sail  is  o'er 

Fram  Slumber  Sea. 
My  precious  one,  you'll  step  to  shore 

On  Mother's  knee. 

Atfted  Fercenal  Gravtt  11846- 


Lord  Gabriel,  wilt  thou  not  rejoice 
When  at  last  a  little  boy's 

Cheek  lies  heavy  as  a  rose, 

And  his  eyelids  close? 

Gabriel,  when  that  hush  may  he. 
This  sweet  hand  all  heedfuUy 

I'll  undo,  for  ihee  alone. 

From  his  mother's  own. 


Cradle  Song  .  ^> 

Then  the  far  blue  kigdirays  pawen 
With  the  burning  itars  of  faeaveni  > 

May  not  spill  a  gleam? 

He  will  take  thy  heart  in  thrall, 
Telling  o'er  thy  breastplate,  all 
Colors,  in  his  bubblUig  speech. 
With  his  hand  to  each. 

[Dormi,  dormi,  tu. 
Sapphire  it' HubUa: 
Pearl  and  beryl,  iMey  are  tailed, 
Chtyuprase  and  emerald, 

p:hy  Google 

5*  Poems  Qf.Youthf  and  Age 

Sard  and  OKtelkjitl.  ■'■[' 

NuttUKrat  so,  onrf  kissed,} 

All,  but  find  some  angel  word 
For  thy  sharp,  subduing  sword!' 
Yea,  Lotd  ilichael;  make  no  dq^bt 
Hewiilfiirfitout:  i 

{Dormi,  iormi,  lu! 

His  eyes  will  look  al  you.) 

Last,  a  little  morping  space, 
Lead  him  to  that  leafy  place      ; 

Where  Our  Lady  sits  awake. 

For  all  mothere'  sake. 

Bosomed  with  the  Blessed  One^ 
He  shall,  mind  her  of  her  Son, 

Once  so  foided  from  all  harms, 

In  her  shrining  arms. 

(In  her  veil  of  blue, 
Dormi,  dormi,  tit.) 

S6;— and  fare  thee  well. 

Softly,— Gabriel    ....  '' 

When  the  first  faint  red  shall  come. 
Bid  the  Day-star  lead  him  home, 

For  the  bright  wotU's  ?akfi—  7 

Tc)  my  heaf  t,  awake. 

Josephine  Preston  Pcabpiy  [1874- 

White  little  hands!  ,. 

,,     Pink  little  feetl  ^ 

Dimpled  all  over, 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweet! 
What  dost  thou  i»ail  for? 

The  unknown?  the  uUSewi?.. 
Ifab  iUs  that  are  coming,   . 
The  jbys  tbdt  have  bpea?  .  , 


'    iKcnmdtyj  Babe  :...'|  9>fi 

'Cling, lio-ine,do^ei,  '  .>  ii'  i, •,!■,;,!. H 

r,      Qoaerand  dosar,  ■■..,-,('  i-,, ,// 

"nU  the  pain  that  is  purer      ,  ■ 

Hath  banished  the>.grassGr' .  -'A 
DiaiD,  drain  at  the  Gtreafn,  Jov^,  -, 

Thy  hunger  ia  freeing, 
Hat  was  born  in  a  dream,  love, 

Along  wWh' thy  being!    -  '- 

Little  lingers' that  feci'  ;  "'  ''■'■"''  ''■ 
For  thefr  home  on  my  breast,  ■    ■    ' 

Litde  lips  that  appeal  '    .'I 

For'tbor  Durture,  their  rtsti 

)u  weefi,,dear? 

^f*'.     ..^      ..',!,■  'l 

sleep,  dear, 
e  eyes,  ■ '  "  ' 

Alfftd  AulUtt  lia'3S^gi3\ 

KENTUCKY  BABE  ,  .;;    ,,   „ 
'Skeeteks  am  a  hummin'  on  de  honeysuckle  vine, — 

Sleep,  Kentucky  Babe! 
Sandman  am  a  comrin'  to  dis  little  toon  of  mine, — 

Sleep,  KmlHciy  Babe!  > 

Snv'ry  moon  am  »lunin '  in  de  heabens  up  above, 
Bobdink  am  pinin'fo' hialitllelady  love:      ! 

Yt^  is  mighty  iu/cky; 

BabeoJMKe^wAy.-r-       ,         :.  .  \ 

dose  yo' eyes itnlttt- 

Fly  av/ay, 
Fly  away,  Kentucky  Babe,  fly  away  to  rest,  '' 

Fiy  away, 
lay  yo'  kinky,  woolly  head  on  yo'  maiamy'sibreast, — 

Oose  yo' eyes  in  sleep.  ■  'I 

Daddy's  in  de  cane-brake  wid  his  little  dog  and  gun, — 

Sleep,  Kentucky  Babe! 
Tossum  fo'  yo'  breakfast  when  yo'  sleepin'  time  is  done,— 

Sleep,  Kentucky  Babel 


J2  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Bogie  man '11  catch  yo'  sure  unless  yo'  close  yo'  eyea, 
Waitin'  jes  outside  de  doo'  to  Uke  yo'  by  surprise: 

Bes'  be  keepin'  shady, 

Link  colored  tody, — 

Close  yo'  eyes  in  sleep. 

Riekard  Henry  Biuk  [1860- 

Minnie  and  Winnie  slept  in  a  shell. 
Sleep,  little  ladies!    And  they  slept  well. 
Sounds < 
Sle^,  III 
Echo  on 

Two  bright  stara  peeped  into  the  shell. 
"What  are  they  dxeuning  of?    Who  can  tell?" 
Started  a  green  linnet  out  of  the  croft ; 
Wake,  little  ladies!    The  sun  is  aloft. 

Alfred  Tmnyseu  [i8oo-i8biI; 

Sleep,  my  baby,  while  I  sing 
Bed -time  news  of  everythii^. 
Chickens  run  to  mother  heii; 
Piggy  curls  up  in  the  pen. 
In  the  field,  all  tired  with  play, 
Quiet  now  the  lambkins  stay. 
Kittens  cuddle  in  a  heap- 
Baby,  too,  must  go  to  sleepl 
Sleep,  my  baby,  while  I  sing 
■Bed-time  news  of  everything. 
Now  the  cows  from  pasture  come;  ■ 
Bees  fly  home  with  drowsy  hum. 
■  Little  birds  arc  in  the  nest, 
Under  mother-bird's  soft  breast. 
_    ,     .      Over  all  soft  shadows  creep- 
Baby  now  must  go  to  sleep. 


Tucking  the  Baby  In    ' 

Sleqp,  my  baby,  while  I  taag    ■  | 
Bed-lime  news  of  eveiything.  , 
Sleepy  ^iwcis  seem  to  nod, 
Drooping  toward  t^e  dewyaod; 
While  tbe  big  sun's  fading  light 
Bids  my  baby  dear  good-night. 
Mother  loving  watch  wiU  keep; 
B^^  DOW  must  go  to  sleep.     .   . . 
EmitU  Poulsson  [ig< 

The  darli-fringed  eyelids  slowly  cjose 

On  eyes  serene  and  deep; 
Upon  my  breast  my  own  sweet  child 

Has  gently  dropped  to  sleep; 
I  kiss  his  soft  and  dimpled  cheek, 

I  kiss  his  rounded  chin, 


.'s  Qwn  smile, 

Or  like  some  new  embodied  soul, 

Still  pure  from  taint  of  sin — 
My  thoughts  arc  reverent  as  I  stoop 

To  tuck  nv  baby  in. 
What  toil  mi|Bt  stain  lltese  tiny  hands 

That  ncnrfie  still  and' white? 
What  shadows  croq>  acmss  the  faoe 

TbaX  sUdcs  with  mocning  light? 
These  wee  pink  Aoeless  feet— how  far 

Shall  go  thdr  lengtbcniDg  tread. 
When  they  no  longa  cuddled  dose 

May  rest  upon  this  bed? 
O  what  am  I  that  I  should  train 

An  angel  for  the  skies; 
Or  mix  the  potent  draught  that  feeds 

The  soul  witbin  these  eyes? 


$4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  reach  him  up  to  the  sinless  Hands 
Before  his  cares  begin, — 

Great  Father,  with  Thy  folds  o^  love, 
O  tuck  my  baby  in:  ' 

Cunis  Stay  [iS 

What  a  plague  is  this  o'  mine. 

Tak'  him  to  your  ain  den. 

Whaur  the  bogie  bides,     "       '' 
But  first  put  baith  ;^lir  big  teeth'- ' 

In  bis  wee  phimp  sides; 
'  Gic  your  auld  gray  pow  a  shaire,'  - ' '  I 

Rive  him  frae  my  grup,'       '      ' 
Tak'  him  -whaur  nae  kiss  b  gaun    '' ' 

When  he  waukens  up.     '       '    ' 

Whatna  noise  is  that  I  hear 

Coomin'dotm  the  street?'  >■  ' ,'.' 
Wcel  I  ken  the  dump,  dunqi,  '    - 

■O'  her  beetjefeet;  -      '  '/ 

Meity  mcl  she's  iit  the-doocl  . 

Hear  her  lift  the  sneck;  -      ' 

Whcesht,  an'  cuddle  mammy. toO, 

Closer  roun'  the  neck.  ■■      !.' 

Jenny  wi'  the  aim  teeth,  ,,  < , 

The  bairn  has  aff  his  daes;   .     i 

Sieepin' saie  an' ^oun',  I  think,—  ,, , 
Dinna  tquch  his  taes.  .  ,  .         ; 


Sleepiii'-b&l^aTG'titf'fe#iyiin','    -i  ■ni  I 

Yemay  turft'sboot;    ,;.r  ,  ,.  •     :.;; 

An'  tak''aWa'lWee  TteniwIit'dOiM-^.' '' 

I  hearWtnSerddiHr'wrt. '  '  •     ■  '' " 

Dump,  dump,  awa' she  gangs  '  '' '' 

Back  the  road  she  cam',  '       '  '    '  ' 

I  hear  her  at  the  ither  doof,' '  '    ' '      '' 
Speirin' after  Tam;    "'    

He's  a  erabbit,  grcetin' thing—  '  ■'  ■    ' 
The  warst  in  a'  the  ^oc 

Little  like  my  atn'  wee  weati— 
Losh,  he's  slcepin'  souii'!  ' 

;  f 

^..    I.'      ■ 
\f>       './ 

-:::'•   ■  '/. 

fnchten  muckie  men. 

.  —.-A     ■    :    ■■::...    r--     .     I        ,,   „„,T 

.CII»DI,E,OOON         ,  ■„/ 

THEbairniej  coddle  doon. ^t  fiicht.^. 

Wi'  miickle  faucht,an'  ((in,;    ,     ,,',  ,^  . 
"0,  try  an'  sleep,  ycwfi^ukrifc  ro^^ 

Your  father's  comin'  in." 
They  never  bee(Lit.w«rd'1.3pMki'.i  .'Ij 

I  try  togie-a  £roon,i    '^,<;:i.:  :/f 
But«yeJ  haplhetni^an'.ifry^ ,..  t,.;i 

"0  bain)l«Sj  cuddle.doon.:'.,,;,  i:i  ,7 

Wee  Jamie  wi',,UM.ciiiJy.l)ftid-H  ,,  1/ 

Heiaye.sWpBiHcKt.tbfjiva.'— ■  ■,      ,/, 
Bangs  up  ah'icries,;"!  »ii\M\a:pi4ae^^' 
The  iHbcxI  otsTtathem  a'. 


96  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  rin  an'  fetdi  them  pieces,  drinks. 

They  atop  awee  the  sous'i 
Then  draw  the  blankets  up  aa'  ay, 

"Noo,  weanies,  cuddle  doon." 

But  ere  five  tninutes  gang,  wee  Rab 

Cries  oot,  frae  'neath  the  claes, 
"Mither,  mak'  Tam  fft  ower  at  once-^ 

He's  kitUin'  wi'  hb  taes. " 
The  mischief's  in  that  Tam  for  tricks, 

He'd  bother  half  the  toon; 
But  aye  I  hap  them  up  an'  cry, 

"O  balrnies,  cuddle  doon." 

At  leng 

An',  I 
They  ti 
•  WhU< 



■■■  An'  just  afore  wc  bed  oorsel's, 

We  look  at  oor  wee  lambs; 
Tam  has  his  airm  roun'  wee  Rab's  neck, 

An'  Rab  his  airni  roun'  Tarn's. 
I  lift  wee  Jamie  up  the  bed. 

An'  as  I  straik  each  croon, 
I  whisper,  till  my  heart  fills  up, 

"0  bairnies,  cutiiile  doon." 

The  bairtiies  cuddle  doon  at  nicht 

Wi'  mirth  that's  dear  to  me; 
But  sune  the  big  warl's  cark  an'  care 

Will  quaten  doon  their  glee. 
Yet,  come  what  will  to  ilka  ane, 

May  He  who  sits  eboon 
Aye  whisper,  though  their  pows  be  'bauld, 

"O'boimies,  cuddle  doon." 

Alaamdtr  Aadvsan  (1845--1900I 



Tis  bedtime;  say  your  hymn,  and  bid  "  Good-night; 
God  bless  Mamma,  Papa,  and  dear  ones  all." 
Youf  hsif-lbut  eyes  beneath  your  eycKds  idl^ 
Another  minute,  you  will  shut  them  quite. 
Yes,  1  will  carry  you,  put  out  the  light, 
And  tuck  you  up,  although  you  are  so  tall! 
What  win  you  give  me,  decpy  one,  and  call 
My  wages,  if  I  settle  you  all  tight? 

I  laid  her  golden  curls  upon  my  arm, 

I  drew  her  litde  feet  within  my  hand, 

Her  rosy  palms  were  joined  in  trustful  bliss, 

Her  heart  next  mine  beat  gently,  soft  and  warm 

She  nestled  to  me,  and,  by  Love's  command. 

Paid  me  my  predous  wages— "  Baby's  Kiss." 

Francis  Robert  St.  Clair  ErsiiM  li8jj-iSi)o) 




The  world  is  so  full  of  a  number  of  things, 
I'm  sure  we  should  aU  be  as  happy  as  kiogs. ' 

Kobert  Louis  Stevenson  [i850'iS94] 


A  CHILD  should  always  say  what's  true         i 
And  speak  when  he  is  spoken  to. 
And  behave  mannerly  at  table; 
At  least  as  far  as  he  is  able. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson  [1650-1844] 


Good  little  boys  should  never  say 

"I  will,"  and  "Give  me  these"; 
0,  no!  that  never  is  the  way. 

But  "Mother,  if  you  please." 

And  "If  you  please,"  lo  Sister  Ann 

Good  boys  to  say  are  ready; 
And,  "Yes,  sir,"  to  a  Gcnlleman, 

And,  "Yes,  ma'am,"  to  a  Lady. 

Elisabeth  Turner  I    ?   -1846] 


Hearts,  like  doors,  will  ope  with  ease 

To  very,  very  little  keys, 

And  don't  forget  that  two  of  these 

Are  "I  thank  you"  and  "If  you  pleaae." 



The  Lovable  Child 

Come  when  yon 're  called. 
Do  what  you're  bid,' 

Close  the  door  after  you, 
Nevef  be  chid, 

Sddom  "can't," 

Seldom  "don't;" 
Never  "shan't," 

Never  "won't." 


Whek  little  Fred 

Was  caUed  to  bed. 
He  always  acted  ri^t; 

He  kisBed  Mama, 

And  then  Papa, 
And  wished  them  all  gpod-night:. 

He  made  no  noise, 

Like  naughty  boys, 
But  gently  up  the  statis 

Directly  went, 

When  he  was  sent, 
And  always  said  hi>  praycEs. 

Modest  as  a  violet, 
As  a  rosebud  sweet — 

That's  tTie  kind  of  little  girl 
People  liko  to  meet. 

Bri^  as  is  a  diamond. 
Pure  as  any  pearl^ 

Everyone  rejoices  in  ■        ■    '■ 
Such  a  Ihtle  girl. 

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lOO  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Happy  as  a  robin. 

Gentle  aaa  dove — 
Tliat's  the  kind  of  little  girl 

Everyone  will  love. 
Fly  away  and  seek  her, 

Little  song  of  mine, 
For  I  choose  that  very  girl 

As  my  Valentine. 

Emitic  Poulssau  (i8sj- 

CuiLDRECf,  you  aie  very  little. 
And  your  bones  are  very  brittle; 
If  you  would  grow  great  and  stately, 
Vou  must  try  to  walk  sedately. 
You  must  still  be  bright  and  qitiet, 
And  content  with  simple  diet; 
And  remain,  through  all  bcwild'ring, 
Innocent  and  honest  children. 
Happy  hearts  and  happy  faces, 
Happy  play  in  grassy  places — 
That  was  how,  Jn  ancient  igcs, 
Guldren  grew  to  kings  and  sages. 
But  the  unkind  and  the  imruly. 
And  the  sort  who  cat  unduly. 
They  must  never  hope  tor  glory — 
Theirs  is  quite  a  different  storyl 
Cruel  children,  cryi:^  babies, 
All  grow  up  as  geese  and  gables, 
Hated,  as  their  age  increases, 
By  their  nephews  and  their  nieces. 

Robert  Lotih  SUvcmim  {1850- 18(14 J 

Yesteumy,  Rebecca  Mason, 

In  the  parlor  by  herself, 
Broke  a  handsotne  china  baaln. 

Placed  upoD  the  m&md^eU . 


A  Rule  for  Birds'  Nesters  ie>t 

Quite  alarmed,  sfaii  thou^t  of  goiAg 

Very  quietly  away, 
Not  a  single  person  knomng, 

Of  her  being  there  that  day. 

But  Rebecca  recollected 

She  was  taught  deceit  to  shun; 
And  the  moment  she  reSected, 

Told  her  mother  what  was  done; 

Who  commended  her  behavior, 
Loved  her  better,  and  forgave  her. 

Elhabtth  Turner  I  ?  -1846] 


Ltttle  children,  never  give 
Pain  to  things  that  feel  ajid  live; 
Let  the  gentle  robin  come 
For  the  crumbs  you  save  at  home, — 
As  his  meat  you  throw  along 
Hell  re|»y  you  with  a  song;  , 
Never  hurt  the  timid  hare 
Peeping  from  her  greerv  grass.^r. 
Lei  her  come  and  sport  and  play 
On  the  lawn  at  dose  of  day; 
Tlie  little  lark  goes  soarbg  high  , 
To  the  bright  windows  of  the  sky, 
Singing  as  if  'twere  always  spring, 
And  fluttering  on  an  untired  yipg,— 
Oh!  let  him  dng  his  happy  song, 
Nor  do  these  gentle  creatuns'  wrong. 


The  robin  and  the  red-breast. 
The  ^mrrow  and  the  wren;    ' 

If  ye  take  out  o'  their  nest. 
Yell  never  thrive  again  I 


.  10i. -."     Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Hie  robiD  and  the  led-breast, 

The  martin  and  ibe  swallow; 
If  ye  toucli  one  o'  their  eggs, 
Bad  luck  will  surely  follow  I 

I've  plucked  the  berry  from  the  bush,  the  brown  nut  from 

the  tree, 
But  heart  of  happy  little  bird  ne'er  broken  was  by  me. 
I  saw  them  in  their  curious  nests,  close  coudiiiig,  slyly  peer 
With  their  wild  eyes,  like  glittering  beads,  to  Bote  if  harm 

I  passed  them  by,  and  blessed  them  all;  I  felt  that  it  was 

To  leave  unmoved  the  creatures  small  whose  home  was  in 

the  wood. 

And  here,  even  now,  above  ray  head,  a  lusty  rogue  doth 

He  pecks  his  swelling  breast  and  neck,  and  trims  his  little 

He  will  not  fly;  he  knows  full  weU,  while  chirping  on  that 

I  would  not  harm  him  for  the  world,  or  interrupt  his  lay. 
Sing  on,  sing  on,  blithe  bird!  and  fill  my  heart  with  summer 

It  has  been  aching  many  a.  day  with  measures  full  of  sadnessi 
WiUiam  UalkeraieK  (1797-1835] 

I  LIKE  little  Pussy,  her  coat  is  so  warni; 
And  if  I  don't  hurt  her  she'll  do  me  no  harm. 
So  I'll  not  pull  her  tail,  nor  drive  her  away, 
But  Pussy  and  I  very  gently  will  play. 

She  shall  sit  by  my  side,  and  I'll  give  her  some  food; 
And  she'U  love  me  because  I  am  gentle  and  good. 
Ill  pat  little  Pussy  and  then  she  will  purr, 
And  thus  show  her  thanks  for  my  kindness  to  her. 


The  Litde  Gentleman    .  joj 

111  not  pinch  her  eus,  nor  tread  on  her  paw, 
Lest  I  should  provoke  her  to  use  her  sharp  claw; 
I  never  will  ves  her,  nor  make  her  displeased, 
Fer  Pussy  can't  bear  to  be  worried  or  teased, 

Jane  TaytoT  (1783-1814] 



Moke  the  roi^ty  ages 
Of  eternity. 

So  our  little  errors 

Lead  the  soul  away 
From  the  path  of  virtue. 

Far  in  sin  to  stray. 

Little  deeds  of  kindness. 

Little  words  of  love, 
Help  to  make  earth  happy 

Like  the  heaven  above. 

Julia  PieUker  Carney  (1813-1908] 


Take  your  meals,  my  little  man. 
Always  like  a  gentleman; 
Wash  your  face  and  hands  with  care, 
Change  your  shoes,  and  brush  j'our  hair; 
Then  so  fresh,  and  deaa,and  neat. 
Come  and  take  your  proper  seat; 
Do  not  loiter  and  be  late, 
Making  other  people  wait; 

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I04  yoems  ot  Youth  and  Age 

Do  not  rudely  point  or  touch: 
Bo  not  eat  and  drink  too  much: 
Finish  what  you  have,  before 
You  even  ask,  or  send  for  more: 
Never  crumble  or  destroy 
Food  that  others  might  enjoy; 
They  who  idly  cnimbs  will  waste 
Often  want  a  loaf  to  taste! 
Never  spill  your  milk  or  tea, 
Never  rude  or  noisy  be; 
Never  choose  the  daintiest  food, 
Be  content  with  what  is  good: 
Seek  in  all  things  that  you  can 
To  be  a  little  gentleman. 


I  MUST  not  throw  upon  the  floor 

The  crust  I  cannot  eat; 
For  many  little  hungry  ones 

Would  think  it  quite  a  treat. 

My  parents  labor  very  hard 
To  get  me  wholesome  food; 

Then  I  must  never  waste  a  bit 
That  would  do  others  good. 

For  wilful  waste  makes  woeful  want, 

And  I  may  live  to  say, 
Oh!  how  I  wish  I  had  the  bread 

That  once  I  threw  away! 


How  doth  the  little  busy  hee 
Improve  each  shining  hour. 

And  gather  honey  all  the  day 
From  every  opening  flower! 


The  Brown  Thrash     ■  loj 

How  skilfully  she  builds  her  celll 

How  neat  she  spreads  the  wax! 
ADd  lalxtrs  hard  to  store  it  well 

With  the  sweet  food  she  makes. 

In  works  of  labor  or  of  skill, 

I  would  be  busy  too; 
For  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 

For  idle  hands  to  do. 

In  books,  or  work,  or  healthful  play, 

Let  my  first  years  be  passed, 
That  I  may  give  for  every  day 

Some  good  account  at  last. 

Isaac  Walls  11674-1748] 

Tseke's  a  merry  brown  thrush  sitting  up  in  the  tree. 
"He's  singing  tome!    He's  singing  tome!"  1 

And  what  does  be  say,  little  giri,  little  boy? 
"Ob,  the  u*orld's  ruuuing  over  with  joy! 
Don't  you  hear?    Don't  you  S|Be? 
Hush!    Look!    In  my  tree, 
I'm  as  happy  as  happy  can  be!" 

And  the  bi  a  you  see, 

And  five  ei 
Don't  Di  boy, 

And  I 
If  you  never  bring  sorrow  to  me." 

So  tbe  merry  brown  thrush  sings  away  in  the/tree. 
To  you  and  to  me,  to  you  and  to  me; 
And  he  sings  a!!  the  day,  little  girl,  little  boy, 
'"Oh,  th%  world's  running  over  with  joy! 
But  long  it  won't  be, 
Don't  you  know?    Don't  you  see? 
Unless  we're  as  good  as  can  be." 

Lucy  Larcom  [1814'igQj) 


io6  Poems  of  Youth  and  "Age 


'Tis  the  voice  of  a  sluggard;  1  heard  him  comfi^n, 
"You  have  waked  me  too  soon;  I  must  slumber  again"; 
As  the  door  on  its  hinges,  so  he  on  his  bed 
Turns  his  sides,  and  his  shoulders,  and  bis  tteHvy  head. 

"A  little  more  sleep,  and  a  little  more  slumber"; 

Thus  he  wastes  half  his  days,  and  his  hours  without  number; 

And  when  he  gets  up,  he  sits  folding  his  hand^ 

Or  walks  about  saunt'ring,  or  trifling  he  stands. 

I  passed  by  his  garden,  and  saw  the  wild  brier 
The  thorn  and  the  thistle  grow  broader  and  higher; 
The  clothes  that  haug  on  him  are  turning  to  rags; 
And  his  money  still  wastes  till  he  starves  or  he  begs. 

I  made  him  a  visit,  still  hoping  to  find 
That  he  took  better  care  for  improving  his  mJnd; 
Me  told  me  his  dreams,  talked  of  eating  and  drinkihg, 
But  he  scarce  reads  his  Bible,  and  never  loves  thinking.' 

Said  I  then  to  my  heart,  "Here's  a  lesson  for  me; 
That  man's  but  a  picture  of  what  I  might  be; 
But  thanks  to  my  friends  for  their  caro  in  my  breeding. 
Who  taught  me  betimes  to  love  working  and  reading." 

lioac  Walls  [1674-1748] 

THE  VIOLET  1  ' 

Down  in  a  green  and  shady  bed 

A  modest  violet  grew; 
Its  stalk  was  bent,  it  hung  its  head,  '    '     : 
■  As  if  to  hide  from  view. 

And  yet  it  was  a  lovely  (tower,  ' 

Its  colors  bright  and  fair; 
It  might  have  graced  a  rosy  bower, 

Instead  of  liiding  there. 


Dirty  Jim,  107 

Vet  there  it  was  content  to  bloom, 

In  modest  tints  arrayed; 
And  there  diffused  a  sweet  perfume, 

Within  the  silent  shade. 

Then  let  me  to  the  valley  go, 

This  pretty  flower  to  see; 
That  I  may  also  learn  to  grow 

In  sweet  humility. 

Jane  Ta^  [1783-1834I 


There  was  one  little  Jhn, 
Tis  reported  of  him, 
And  must  be  to  his  lasting  disgrace, 

lite  dean; 
But  all  was  in  vain, 
He  got  dirty  again, 

)  survey; 
His  indolent  mind 
No  pleasure  could  find 
In  tidy  and  wholesome  array. 

The  idle  and  bad, 


108  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


"Dear  mc!  what  signifies  a,  pin, 

Wedged  in  a  rotlen  board? 
I'm  certain  Ihai  I  won't  begin, 

At  ten  years  old,  to  hoard; 
I  never  will  be  called  a  miser, 
That  I'm  detennined,"  said  EUza. 

So  onward  tripped  the  little  maid. 

And  left  the  pin  behind, 
Which  very  snug  and  quiet  lay. 

To  its  hard  fate  resigned; 
Nor  did  she  think  (a  careless  chit) 
Twas  worth  her  while  to  stoop  for  it. 

Next  day  a  party  was  to  ride, 

To  see  an  air  balloon; 
And  all  the  company  beside 

Were  dressed  and  ready  soon; 
But  she  a  woeful  case  was  in. 
For  want  of  just  a  single  pin. 

In  vain  her  eager  eyes  she  brings, 

To  every  darksome  crack; 
There  was  not  one,  and  yet  her  things 

Were  dropping  off  her  back. 
She  cut  her  pincushion  in  two. 
But  no,  not  one  had  fallen  through. 

At  last,  as  hunting  on  the  floor. 

Over  a  crack  she  lay. 
The  carriage  rattled  to  the  door. 

Then  rattled  fast  away; 
But  poor  Eliza  was  not  in, 
For  want  of  just— a  single  pin! 

There's  hardly  anything  so  small, 

So  trifling  or  so  mean, 
That  we  may  never  want  at  all, 

For  service  unforeseen; 


Jane  and  Eliza  109 

And  wilful  waste,  depend  upon't. 
Brings,  almost  aJways,  woeful  wut! 

Ann  Taylor  [ijB3-i866| 


Thebe  were  two  little  girls,  neither  handsome  nor'  plain 
One's  name  was ^liza,  the  other's  was  Jane; 
They  were  both  of  one  height,  as  I've  heard  people  say. 
And  I 



But  Chen  you  might  sefi  tha^t,  in  forcing  a  smile, 
Her  mouth  was  uneasy,  Uid  ached  all  the  wJiilc, 

And  m  ^ite  of  her  cace  it  would  sometimes  bcfaB 
That  some  cross  event  happened  to  ruin  it  all; 
And  because  it  might  chance  that  her  share  was  the  worst, 
Her  temper  broke  loose,  and  her  dimples  dispersed. 

But  Jane,  who  had  nothing  she  wanted  to  hide, . 

And  therefore  these  troublesome  arts  never  tried, 

llad  none  of  the  care  and  fatigue  of  concealing, 

But  her  face  always  showed  what  her  bosom  was  feeling. 

At  home  or  abroad  there  was  peace  in  her  smile,   ■ 
A  cheerful  good  nature  that  needed  no  guile. 
.■\nd  Eliza  .worked  hard,  but  coiJd  never  obtaini 
The  affection  that  freely  was  given  to  Jane. 

_  .4hb  ra>y,liT82-i866] 

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no  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


One  ugly  trick  has  often  spoiled 

The  sweetest  and  the  best; 
Matilda,  though  a  pleasant  child, 

One  ugly  trick  pcssessed, 
Which,  like  a  doud  before  the  skies, 
Hid  all  her  better  qualities. 

Her  grandmamma  went  out  one  day. 

And  by  mistake  she  laid 
Her  spectacles  and  snuS-box  gay 

Too  near  the  little  maid; 
"Ah!  well,"  thought  she,  "111  try  them  o 
As  sooa  as  grandmamma  is  gone,"" 

Forthwith  she  placed  upon  her  nine 

The  glasses  large  and  "wide; 
And  looking  round,  as  1  suppose. 

The  snuff-box  too  she  spied: 
"Oh!  what  a  pretty  box  is  that; 
111  opsn  it,"  said  little  Matt. 

"I  know  that  grandmamma  would  say, 

'Don't  meddle  with  it,  dear'; 
But  then,  she's  far  enou^  away, 

And  no  one  else  is  near; 
Besides,  what  can  there  be  amiss. 
In  opening  such  a  box  as  this?" 

So  thumb  and  finger  went  to  work 

To  move  the  stubborn  lid, 
And  presently  a  mighty  jerit  ,: 

~  The  mighty  mischief  did; 


Contented  John ' 

Matilda,  smarting  with  the  pain, 

And  tingling  still,  and:  64re, 
Made  many  a  promise  to  refrain 

From  meddUog  evermore. 
And  'tis  a  Eact,  as  I  hav«  heard,         ■ 
She  ever  since  haa  kept  her  woiii, 

Attn  Taylor  (i78»-i866l 


One  honest  John  Toinkiifi,  a  bedger  and  ditdier. 
Although  he  was  poor,  did  not  want  td  be  richer; 
For  all  such  vain  wishes  in  him  were  prevented 
By  a  fortunate  habit  of  being  centcntM, 

Tlougl  I, 

John  ni 



"For  why  should.  I  grumble  and  murmur?"  he  said; 
"If  I  canoot  get  meat,  I'll  be  thankful  for  bread; 
And,  though  (retting  may  make  my  calamities  deeper. 
It  can  never  cause  bread  and  cheese  to  be  cheaper." 


lia  Poems  of.  Youth  and  Age 

If  John  was  afOicted  with  sickness  or  pain. 
He  wished  himself  better,  but  did  not  complain. 
Nor  lie  down  to  fret  In  despondence  and  sorrow, 
But  said  that  he  hoped  to  be  better  to-morrow. 

If  any  one  wronged  him  or  treated  him  ill. 

Why,  John  was  good-natured  and  sodabte  still; 

For  he  said  that  revenging  the  injury  done 

Would  be  making  two  rogues  when  there  need  be  but  one. 

And  thus  honest 

Passed  through  t 

And  I  wish  that  , 

Would  copy  Johi 


How  good  to  lie  a  little  while 
And  look  up  through  the  treel 

The  Sky  b  like  a  kind  big  smile 
Bent  sweetly  over  me. 

The  Sunshine  flickers  through  the  lace 

Of  leaves  above  ray  head. 
And  kisses  me  upon  the  face 

Like  Mother,  before  bed. 

The  Wind  comes  stealing  o'er  the  grass 

To  whisper  pretty  things; 
Aid  though  I  cannot  see  him  pass, 

I  feel  hia  careful  wings. 

So  many  gentle  Friends  are  near 

Whom  one  can  scarcely  see, 
A  child  should  never  feel  a  fear, 

Wherever  he  may  be. 

AbbU  Faneell  Brmm  [ij 


*  There  Was  a  Little  Girl" 


Anges  in  its  time  and  place 
May  assume  a  kind  of  grace. 
It  imist  have  some  reason  in  it, 
And  not  last  beyond  a  miaute. 
If  to  fujtbcT  Icnjlhs  it  go, 
It  does  into  malice  grow, 
lis  the  difference  that  we  see 
Twixt  the  serpent  and  the  bee. 
If  the  latter  you  provoke. 
It  inflicts  a  hasty  stroke, 
Puts  you  to  some  little  pain, 
But  it  never  stings  again. 
Close  m  tufted  bush  or  brake 
Lurks  the  poison-swellM  snake 
NutBJng  up  his  cherished  wrath; 
In  the  purlieus  Of  his  path, 
In  the  cold,  or  in  the  warm, 
Mean  him  good,  or  mean  him  hann, 
Wheresoever  fate  may  bring  you, 
The  vile  snake  will  always  sling  y&u. 

Charles  and  Mary  Lamb 

Thek£  was  a  little  girl,  who  had  a  little  curl 

Right  in  the  middle  of  her  f<H^head, 
And  when  she  was  good,  she  was  very,  very  good, 

But  when  she  was  bad  she  was  horrid. 

She  stood  on  hef  head,  on  her  little  trundlc-bed, 

With  nobody  by  /or  to  hinder; 
She  screamed  and  she  squalled,  she  ycUcd  and  she  bawled, 

.\nd  drummed  her  little  heels  against  the  winder. 

Her  mother  heard  the  noise,  and  thought  it  was  the  boys 

Playing  in  the  empty  attic, 
She  rushed  upstairs,  and  caught  her  unawares, 

And  spanked  her,  most  emphatic. 


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Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Godfrey  Gordon  Gustavos  Goke— 

No  doubt  you  have  heard  the  name  before — 

Was  a  boy  who  never  would  shut  a  door! 

The  wind  might  whistle,  the  wind  might  roar. 
And  teeth  be  aching  and  throats  be  sore, 
But  still  he  never  would  shut  the  door. 

Ris  father  would  beg,  his  mother  implore, 

"Godfrey  Gordon  Gustavus  Gore, 

We  really  do  wish  you  would  shut  the  door! " 

Their  hands  they  wrung,  their  hair  they  tore; 
But  Godfrey  Gordon  Gustavus  Gore    . 
Was  deaf  as  the  buoy  out  at  the  Nore. 

When  he  walked  forth  the  folks  would  roar, 
"Godfrey  Gordon  Gustavus  Gore, 
Why  don't  you  think  to  shut  the  door? " 

They  rigged  out  a  Shutter  with  sail  and  oar,  . 
And  threatened  to  park  off  Gustavus  Gore 
On  a  voyage  of  penance  to  Singapore. 

But  he  begged  for  mercy,  and  said,  "No  morel 

Pray  do  not  send  me  to  Sing^Kire 

On  a  Shutter,  and  then  I  will  shut  the  door!" 

"You  will?"  said  his  parents;  "then  keep  oo  diorel 
But  mind  you  do!    For  the  plague  is  sore 
Of  a  fellow  that  never  will  shut  the  door, 
Godfrey  Gordon  Gustavus  Gore!" 

William  Briskly  Rands  |iSi^'iS8a) 


A  PBETTY  good  firm  is  "Watch  Sl  Waite," 
And  another  is  "Attit,  Early  &  Layte;" 
And  still  another  is  "Doo  &  Dsuret;" 
But  the  best  is  probably  "  Gtinn  &  Barrett," 
. ,     ,  Waiter  G.  Doty  Ii8t6- 


How  the  Litde  Kite  Learned  to  Fly     uj, 



The  big  kite  nodded:  "Ah  well,  gOodby; 

I'm  off;"  and  he  rase  tivward  the  tranquil  dfey. 

Then  the  little  kite's  pc^ier  stirred  al  the  s%ht. 

And  trembling  he  ^ook  himself  free  for  flight. 

First  whirling  and  frightened,  then  braver  grown. 

Up,  up  he  rose  through  the  air  alone, 

Till  the  big  Jute  lookizig  down  could  sec ,    , 

The  little  <mc  rising  steadily. 

Then  how  the  litLlc  kite  tbriUed.uGth  ptridc^. 

As  be  sailed  with  the  big  kite  side  by  sidcl 

While  far  below  he  could  see  the  ground, 

And  the  boys  like  smaUspcts  moving  round. 

They  rested  high  in  the  quiet  air, 

And  only  thfc  binis  amf  the  clouds  were  (here. 

"Oh,  how  happy  lam!  "the  litde  ktte  cried, 

"And all  beckuscl  wasbrftVe;and'tri«d:" 

'  '■"■■.  ■  Unknovm 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Methooght  I  heard  a  butterfly 

Say  to  a  laboring  bee: 
"Thou  hast  no  colors  ot  the  sky 

On  painted  wings  like  me." 

"Poor  child  of  vanity!  those  dyes. 

And  ccfors  bright  and  rare," 
With  mild  reproof,  the  bee  replies, 
"  Are  all  beneath  my  care. 

"Content  I  toil  from  morn  till  eve. 

And,  scorning  idleness, 
To  tribes  of  gaudy  sloth  I  leave 

The  vanity  of  dress." 

William  Lisle  Btru^ts  |i76i-iSso| 


The  butterfly,  an  idle  thing. 

Nor  honey  makes,  nor  yet  can  sing, 

As  do  the  bee  and  bird; 
Nor  does  it,  like  tlie  prudent  ant. 
Lay  np  the  grain  for  times  of  want, 

A  wise  and  cautious  hoard. 

My  youth  Is  but  a  summer's  day: 
Then  b"ke  the  bee  and  ant  I'll  lay 

A  store  of  learning  by; 
And  though  from  flower  to  flower  I  rove, 
My  stock  of  wisdom  I'll  improve, 

Nor  be  a  butterfly. 

AddaidtO'Kt^e  [1776-1355] 


The  lark  is  up  to  meet  the  sun, 
The  bee  is  on  the  wing, 

The  ant  her  labor  has  begun, 
The  woods  with  mu9i»jing. 


Buttercups  and  Daisies  n- 

Shall  turds  and  bees  and  ants  be  wise, 

Wbile  I  my  incmieDts  watte? 
Oh,  let  me  with  the  inonuBg  rise, 

And  to  my  duties  haste. 

Why  should  I  sleep  till  beams  of  mom 

"Rieir  light  and  gloiy  shed? . 
Immortal  beings  were  not  bom 

To  waste  tbeir  time  in  bed. 

Jane  Tayi«r  I178J-1814I 


BuTTKSCUps  and  daisies, 

Oh,  the  pretty  flowers; 
Coming  ere  the  spring  time. 

To  tell  of  sunny  hours. 
While  the  trees  are  leafless. 

While  the  fields  are  bare, 
Buttercups  and  daisies 

Spring  up  here  and  there. 

Ere  the  snow-drop  peepeth. 

Ere  the  crocus  bold, 
Ere  the  early  primrose 

Opes  its  paly  gold, — 
Somewhere  on  the  sunny  bank 

Buttercups  are  bright; 
Somewhere  midst  the  froien  gcass 

Peeps  the  daisy  white. 

Little  hardy  flowers. 

Like  to  children  poor, 
Playing  in  their  sturdy  health 

By  their  mother's  door. 
Purple  with  the  norlb-wmd. 

Yet  alert  and  bold; 
Fearing  not,  and  caring  not. 

Though  they  be  a-co|d! 


■  I J  8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

What  to  them  19  winter! 

What  are  stormy  showersi 
Buttercups  and  daisies 

Ate  these  hiatnan  flowers! 
He  who  gave  them  hardships 

And  a  life  of  care, 
Gave  them  likewise  hardy  strength 

And  patient  hearts  to  bear.' ' 

Mory  ffrfM'«  J17Q0-1888I 

A  SILLY  youag  cricket,  accustomed  to  sing     < 
Through  the  warm,  sunny  months  of  gay  summer  and  spring, 
Began  to  complain,  when  he  found  that  at  h^me 
His  cupboard  was  empty  and  winter  was  come. 

Not  a  crumb  to  be  found 

On  the  snow-covered  ground; 

Not  a  flower  could  he  see, 

Not  a  leaf  on  a  tree: 
"Oh,  what  will  betomc,"  sa>'s  the  cricket,  "  6f  me?" 

At  last  by  starvation  and  famine  made  bold. 

All  dripping  with  wet  and  all  trembling  with, cold. 

Away  he  set  off  to  a  miserly  ant. 

To  see  if,  to  keep  him  alive,  be  would  grant  ; 

Him  shelter  from  rain: 

A  mouthful  o£  grain 

He  wbhed  only  to  borrow. 

He'd  repay  it  to-morrow: 
If  not,  he  must  die  of  starvation  and  sorrow. 

Says  the  ant  to  the  cricket,  "I'm  your  servant  and  friend, 

But  we  ants  never  borrow,  we  ants  never  lend ; 

But  tell  me,  dear  sir,  did  you  lay  nothing  by 

When  the  weather  was  warm?"  Said  tie  cricket,  "Not  I. 

My  heart  was  so  light 

That  I  sang  day  and  night,  '  '  ' 

For  all  nature  looked  gay." 

"You  sang,  sir,  you  say? 
Go  then,"  said  the  ant,  "and  dance  winter  away." 


Deeds  of  Kindness  in 

Thus  ending,  he  hastily  lifted  the  wicket 

And  out  of  the  door  turned  the  poor  little  cricket. 

Though  this  is  a  fable,  the  moral  is  good: 

If  you  live  without  work,  you  must  live  without  food. 

This  was  your  butterfly,  you  see, — 

His  fine  wings  made  him  vain: 
The  caterpillars  crawl,  but  he 

Passed  them  in  rich  disdain,— 
My  pretty  boy  says,  "Let  him  be 

Only  a  worm  again!" 

Sarah  M.  B.  Piatt  (1836- 

Suppose  the  little  Cowslip 

Should  hang  its  golden  cup 
And  say,  "I'm  such  a  little  flower 

I  'd  better  not  grow  up! " 
How  many  a  weary  traveller 

Would  miss  its  fragrant  smdl. 
How  many  a  little  child  would  giievft 

To  lose  it  from  the  dell! 

Siqipoee  the  glistening  Dewdn^ 

Upon  the  grass  should  say, 
"What  cao  a  little  dewdrop  do? 

I'd  better  roll  awayl" 
The  blade  on  which  it  rested. 

Before  the  day  was  done. 
Without  a  drop  to  moLsten  it. 

Would  wither  in  the  sun. 


I20  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Suppose  the  little  Breezes, 
■  Upon  a  summer's  day, 
Should  think  themselves  too  small  to  cool 

The  traveller  on  his  way: 
Who  would  not  miss  the  smallest 

And  softest  ones  that  blow, 
And  think  they  made  a  great  mistake 

It  they  were  acting  so? 

How  many  deed  of  kindness 

A  little  child  can  do, 
Although  it  has  but  little  strength 

And  little  wisdom  too! 
It  wants  a  loving  spirit 

Much  more  than  strength,  to  prove 
How  many  things  a  child  may  do 

For  others  by  its  love. 

Epes  Sargent  [1813-1 


A  LION  with  the  heal  oppressed, 

One  day  composed  himself  to  rest: 

But  while  he  dozed  as  he  intended, 

A  mouse,  his  royal  back  ascendedi 

Nor  thought  of  harm,  as  .^^p  tells. 

Mistaking  him  for  someone  else; 

And  travelled  over  him,  and  round  him. 

And  might  have  left  him  as  she  found  him 

Had  she  not — tremble  when  you  hear— 

Tried  to  explore  the  monarch's  ear! 

Who  straightway  woke,  with  wrath  immense, 

And  shook  his  head  to  cast  her  thence. 

"You  rascal,  what  are  you  about?" 

Said  he,  when  he  had  turned  her  out, 

"I'll  teach  you  soon,"  the  lion  said, 

"To  make  a  mouse-hole  in  my  head!" 

So  saying,  he  prepared  his  foot 

To  crush  the  trembling  tiny  brute; 


The  Boy  and  the  Woif  lai 

But  she  (tbe  mouse)  with  tearful  eye. 
Implored  the  Hon's  clemency, 
Who  thought  it  best  at  last  to  give 
His  Uttie  prisoner  a  reprieve. 

'Twas  nearly  twelve  months  after  this, 
Tbe  Hon  chanced  bis  way  to  miss; 
When  pressmg  forward,  heedless  yet. 
He  got  entangled  in  a  net. 
With  dreadful  rage,  he  stamped  and  tore. 
And  straight  commenced  a  lordly  roar; 
When  the  poor  mouse,  who  heard  the  noise, 
Attended,  (or  she  knew  his  voice. 
Then  what  the  lion's  utmost  strength 
Could  not  effect,  she  did  at  length; 
With  patient  labor  she  applied 
Her  teeth,  the  network  to  divide; 
And  so  at  last  forth  issued  he, 
A  lion,  by  a  mouse  set  free. 

Few  are  so  small  or  weak,  I  guess. 
But  may  assist  us  in  distress. 
Nor  shall  we  ever,  if  we're  wise. 
The  meanest,  or  the  least  despise. 

Jffrtys  Taylor  |i7Itf-i8S3l 


A  LITTLE  Boy  was  set  to  keep 

A  little  flock  of  goats  or  sheep; 

He  thought  the  task  too  solitary. 

And  took  a  strange  perverse  vagary: 

To  call  the  people  out  of  fun, 

To  see  them  leave  their  work  and  run. 

He  cried  and  screamed  uritb  all  bis  might, — 

"Wolf!  wolf  I"  in  a  pretended  fright. 

Some  people,  working  at  a  distance, 

Canft  running  in  to  his  assistance. 

They  searched  the  fields  and  hushes  round, 

The  Wolf  was  noiAere  to  be  found. 


132  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  Boy,  delighted  with  his  game, 

A  few  days  after  did  the  sarae, 

And  once  again  the  people  came. 

The  trick  was  many  limes  repeated. 

At  last  they  found  that  they  were  cheated. 

One  day  the  Wolf  appeared  in  sight, 

The  Boy  was  in  a  real  fright, 

He  cried,  "Wolf!  wolf!" — the  neighbors  heard, 

But  not  a  single  creature  stirred. 

This  shows  the  bad  effect  of  lying. 

And  likewise  of  continual  crying. 

If  I  had  heard  you  scream  and  roar. 

For  nothing,  twenty  times  before. 

Although  you  might  have  brake  your  ann. 

Or  met  with  any  serious  hann. 

Your  cries  could  give  me  no  alarm; 

They  would  not  make  me  move  the  faster. 

Nor  apprehend  the  least  disaster; 

I  should  be  sorry  when  I  came. 

But  you  yourself  would  be  to  blame. 

Jelin  Hookimm  Frcrc  [176Q-1S46I 


AucrsTUS  was  a  chubby  ladj 
Fat,  ruddy  chcelis  Augustus  had; 
And  everj-body  saw  with  joy 
The  plump  and  hearty,  healthy  boy. 
He  ate  and  drank  as  he  was  told. 
And  never  let  his  soup  get  cold. 

p-hy  Google 

The  Story  of  Little  Suckr^arthumb    1^23, 

But  one  6a,y,  ooe  cold  winter's 'day. 

He  screamed  out—  "  Take  the  soup  away! 

0  taLe  the  nuty  soup  away! 

1  won 't  have  any  aoup  to-day." 

Nextd^  begins  bis  tale  of  woes; 
Quite  lank  and  lean  Augustus  grows. 

s  loud  as  he  is  able, — 
"Not  any  soup  for  mc,  I  say: 

0  take  the  nasty  soup  away! 

1  won 't  have  any  soi^  to-day." 

Look  at  him,  now  the  fourth  day's  come! 
He  scarcely  weighs  a  sugar-pUun; 
He's  like  a  little  bit  of  thread,     , 
And  on  the  fifth  day,  he  was — dead! 
Prom  lie  German  of  HeinHck  Hodman  11798-1874) 


One  day,  mamma  sairlr  "Conrad  dear, 
I  must  go  out  and  leave  you  here. 
But  mind  now,  Conrad,  what  I  say, 
Don't  suck  your  thumb  while  I'm  away. 
The  great  tall  tailor  always  comes 
To  little  boys  that  suck  their  thumbs^ 
And  ere  they  dreamwhathe's  at)ont, 
He  takes  hid  great  sharp  scissors  om 
And  cNla  their  thumbs  dean  oS, — and  then, 
YoukiiOiW,  they  never  grow  again." 


124  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Mamma  had  scarcely  turned  h«r  back, 
The  thumb  was  in,  alackl  alack! 
The  door  flew  open,  in  he  ran, 
The  great,  long,  red-legged  scissoEs-maii. 
Ob,  children,  see!  the  tailor's  come 
And  caught  our  little  Suck-a-Thumb. 
Snip!  snap!  snip!  the  scissore  go; 
And  Conrad  cries  out —  "Oh!  oh!  oh!" 

Snip!  snap!  snip!    They  go  so  fast. 
That  both  his  thumbs  are'ofl  at  last. 
Mamma  comes  home;  there  Conrad  stands. 
And  looks  quite  sad,  and  shows  his  hands; — 
"Ahl"  said  mamma,  "I  knew  he'd  come 
To  nau^ty  little  Suck-a-Thumb,"  ' 

From  the  German  of  Ileinrick  Ho£man  \\  J9B-1874] 


Hearts  good  and  true 

Have  wishes  few 
In  narrow  circles  bounded, 

And  hope  that  lives 

On  what  God  gives 
Is  Christian  hope  well  founded. 

Small  things  are  best; 

Grief  and  unrest 
To  rank  and  wealth  are  given; 

But  little  thing; 

On  little  wings 
Bear  little  souls  to  heaven. 

Fredrrick  William  Faber  [I'Su-iSOj) 

My  Lady  Wind,  my  Lady  Wind, 
Went  round  about  the  house  to  find 

A  chink  to  set  her  foot  in; 
She  tried  the  keyhole  in  the  door, 
She  tried  the  crevice  in  the  floor, 

And  drove  the  chimney  soot  in. 


A  Farewell  125 

And  then  one  night  whenjt  was  dark 
She  blew  up  such  a  tiny  spark 

That  all  the  town  was  bothered; 
From  it  she  raised  such  flame  aad  smoke 
That  many  in  great  terror  woke. 

And  many  more  were  smothered. 

And  tbus  when  once,  my  little  dea,rs, 
A  whisper  reaches  itching  ears — 

The  same  will  oome,  you'll  find: 
Take  my  advice,  restrain  the  tongue, 
Remember  what  old  nurse  has  sung 

Of  busy  Lady  Wind. 



SiiALL  service  is  true  service  while  it  lasts: 
Of  humblest  friends,  bright  creature!  scorn  not  one: 
The  daisy,  by  the  shadow  that  It  casts, 
Protects  the  lingering  dcwdrop  from  the  sun. 

Willum  Wardsworlh  I1770-18S0] 


My  fairest  child,  I  have  no  song  to  give  you; 

No  lark  could  pipe  to  skies  so  du!!  and  gray: 
Yet,  if  you  will,  one  quiet  hint  I  'U  leave  you 
For  every  day. 

m  tell  you  how  to  sing  a  clearer  carol 

Tllan  lark  who  hails  the  dawn  on  breezy  down; 
To  cam  yourself  a  purer  poet 's  laurel 
Than  Shakespeare's  crown. 

Be  good,  sweet  maid,  and  let  who  will  be  clever; 
Do  noble  things,  not  dream  them,  all  day  long: 
And  so  mtke  Life,  and  Death,  and  that  For  Ever 
One  grand  sweet  song. 

Charla  KUigiity  {i.6i9-i^is\ 

p  hyGoogle 



PiMNG  down  the  valleys  wild, 
Piping  soags  of  pleasant  ^ee, 

On  a  cloud  I  saw  a  child, 
And  he  laughing  said  to  me: 

"Pipe  a  song  about  a  lamb!" 
So  I  piped  with  merry  cheer. 

"Piper,  pipe  that  song  again;" 
So  i  piped;  he  w^t  to  hear. 

"Drop  thy  pipe,  iby  happy  pipe; 

Sing  thy  songs  of  happy  cheer!" 
So  I  sang  the  same  again, 

While  he  wept  with  joy  to  hear. 

"Piper,  sit  thee  down  and  write 

In  a  book  (hat  all  may  read." 

So  he  vanished  from  my  sight; 

And  I  plucked  a  hollow  reed, 

And  I  made  a  rural  pen. 

And  I  stained  the  water  clear. 
And  I  wrote  my  happy  songs 

Every  child  may  joy  to  hear.  , 

WiUiam  Blake  \175j-i 


GHEAt,  wide,  beautiful,  wondetfuf  World,     ' 
With  the  wonderful  water  round  you  curled. 
And  the  wonderful  grass  upon  your  breast. 
World,  you  are  beautifully  dressed. 


the  Wwld's  Music  127 

lite  wonderful  air  is  over  me. 
And  the  wonderitd  vmd  is  shaking  the  tree- 
It  walks  on  the  wster,  and  whids  the  milb. 
And  talks  to  itself  on  the  tops  of  the  hiUs. 

You  friendly  Earth,  how  far  do  you  go, 

Wth  the  wheat-fields  that  nod  and  the  rivers  that  flow, 

With  cities  and  gardens,  and  cHSs  and  istes, 

And  petfile  upon  you  for  thousands  of  mites? 

Ah!  you  are  so  great,  and  I  am  so  small, 

I  tremble  to  think  of  you,  Worid,  at  all; 

And  yet,  when  I  said  my  prayers  to-day, 

A  whisper  inside  me  seemed  to  say, 

"  You  are  more  than  the  Earth,  though  you  are  sudi  a  dot : 

You  can  love  titd  think,  and  the  Earth  cannoti " 

Wiiliam  BriglUy  Randt  [Oxi-iiSi] 

The  worid 's  a  very  happy  place, 

Where  every  child  should  dance  and  ung. 
And  always  have  a  smiMnj;  face, 

And  never  sulk  for  anything, 

I  waken  when  the  momiiig'B  oHne, 

And  feel  the  air  and  hgfat  alive 
With  strange  sweet  muse  like  the  hum 

Of  bees  about  their  busy  hive. 

The  linnets  play  among  the  leaves 
At  hide-and-seek,  and  chirp  and  sing; 

While,  flashing  to  and  from  the  caves, 
The  swallows  twitter  on  the  wing. 

The  twigs  that  ^akc,  and  boughs  that  sway; 

And  tail  old  trees  you  could  not  dimfa; 
And  winds  that  cook,  but  cannot  stay, 

Are  gaily  siogiBg  aU  the  time. 


lii  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

From  dawn  to  dark  the  dd  mill-wheel 
Makes  music,  going  round  and  round;- 

And  dusty-white  with  flour  and  meal. 
The  miller  whistles  to  its  sound. 

And  if  you  listen  to  the  rain 

When  leaves  and  birds  and  l>ees  are  dumb, 
You  hear  it  pattering  on  the  pane 

Like  Andrew  beating  on  bis  drum. 

The  coals  beneath  the  kettle  croon, 
And  clap  their  hands  and  dance  in  glee; 

And  even  the  kettle  hums  a  tune 
To  tell  you  when  it's  time  for  tea.  . 

The  world  is  siich  a  happy  place, 
That  children,  whether  big  or  small. 

Should  always  have  a  smiling  face. 
And  never,  never  sulk  at  all. 

Gabriel  Seloun  [1861- 

Wheke  the  pools  are  bright  and  deep, 
Where  the  gray  trout  liee  asleep, 
Up  the  river  and  over  the  lea, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  blackbird  sings  the  latest. 
Where  the  hawthorn  blooms  the  sweetest. 
Where  the  nestlings  chirp  and  flee. 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  mowers  mow  the  cleanest. 
Where  the  hay  lies  thick  and  greenest. 
There  to  track  the  homeward  bee, 
That's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  hazel  bank  is  steepest, 
Where  the  shadow  falls  the  deepest. 
Where  the  clustering  nuts  fall  free, 
That 's  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 


Going  Down  Hill  on  a  Bicycle      129 

Why  the  boys  should  drive  iaway 
Little  sweet  mddena  from  the  play, 
Of  love  to  banter  and  gght  so  wcU, 
That 's  the  thing  I  never  coald  tdi. 

But  this  I  know,  I  love  to  play 
Through  the  meadow,  among  the  hay; 
Up  the  wster  and  over  the  lea, 
That 's  the  may  ior  Billy  and  me. 


With  lifted  feet,  hands  still, 
I  am  poised,  and  down  the  bill 
Dart,  with  heedful  mind; 
The  air  goes  by  in  a  wind. 

Swifter  and  yet  more  swift, 
Till  the  heart  with  a  mighty  lift 
Makes  the  lungs  laugh,  the  throat  cry:— 
"0  bird,  see;  sec,  bird,  I  fly. 

"Is  this,  is  this  your  joy? 
0  bird,  then  I,  though  a  boy. 
For  a  golden  moment  share 
Your  feathery  life  in  air! " 

Say,  heart,  is  there  aught  like  this 
In  a  world  that  is  full  of  bliss? 
Tis  more  than  skating,  bound 
Steel-shod  to  the  level  ground. 

Speed  slackens  now,  I  float 
Awhile  in  my  airy  boat; 
Till,  when  the  nheeb  scarce  ^niwl, 
My  feet'to  the  treadles  fall. 

p:hy  Google 

ija  Poems  of  Youth'  and  Age 

Alas,  that  the  longest  hill 
Must  end  in  a  vale;  but  still, 
Who  climbs  with  toil,  wheiwoe'er. 
Shall  find  wings  wajtiog  there. 

Eenry  Ckarlts  Btecking  {ttsv- 


In  summei  I  am  very  glad 

We  children  are  so  small, 
For  we  can  see  a  thousand  things 

That  men  can't  see  at  all. 

They  don't  know  much  about  the  moss 
And  all  the  stones  they  pass: 

They  never  lie  and  play  among 
The  foiests  in  the  grass: 

They  walk  about  a  long  way  off; 

And,  when  we're  at  the  sea. 
Let  father  stoop  as  best  he  can 

He  can't  find  things  like  me. 

But,  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground 

And  all  the  puddles  freeze, 
I  wish  that  I  were  very  tall, 

High  up  above  the  trees. 

Laurence  Alma-Tadema  |iS    - 

"WHO  HAS  SEEN  THE  WIND?"     ' 

Who  has  seen  the  wind? 

Neither  I  nor  you: 
But  when  the  leaves  hang  trembling, 

The  wind  is  passing  through. 

Who  has  seen  the  wind? 

Neither  you  nor  I: 
But  when  the  trees  bow  down  thdr  h^ds, 

The  wind  is  passing  by. 

Ckritkna  Georgitta  RossOH  IiSjo-iSq^ 


The  Wind's  Song 


0  WINDS  that  blow  across  the  sea, 
What  is  the  story  that  you  bring? 

Leaves  clap  their  hands  on  every  tree 
And  birds  about  their  branches  sing. 

Vou  sing  to  floweis  and  trees  and  birds 
Your  .sea-songs  over  all  the  land. 

Could  you  not  stay  and  whisper  vtorda  '■ 
A  little  child  might  understand? 

The  roaa  nod  to  heu  you  siugi 
But  though  I  listen  all  the  day, 

You  never  tell  me  anything 
Of  father's  ship  so  far  away. 

Its  masts  are  taller  than  the  trees; 

Its  sails  are  silver  ia  the  sun; 
There's  not  a  ship  upon  the  seas 

So  beautiful  as  father's  one. 

Witb  wings  ^rcad  out  it  flies  so  fast 
It  leaves  the  waves  all  white  with  foam. 

Just  whisper  to  me,  blowing  past, 
If  you  have  seen  it  sailing  home. 

1  feel  your  breath  upon  my  cheek. 
And  in  my  hair,  and  on  my  brow. 

Dear  winds,  if  you  could  only  speak, 
I  know  that  you  would  tell  mc  now. 

My  father's  coming  home,  you'd  say. 
With  precious  presents,  one,  two,  three; 

A  shawl  for  mother,  beads  for  May, 
And  eggs  and  shells  for  R<^  and  me. 

The  winds  sing  songs  where'er  they  roam; 

The  leaves  all  clap  their  tittle  hands; 
For  father's  ship  is  coming  home 

With  wondrcmt  things  frem  foceign  landt. 
Gabriel  Sttoim  ltS6i- 


132  ■        Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

A  child's  song 

There  sits  a  piper  on  the  hill 

Who  pipes  the  livelong  day, 
And  when  he  pipes  both  loud  and  shrill, 

The  frightened  people  say: 
"The  wind,  the  wind  is  blowing  up 

Tis  rising  to  a  gale." 
The  women  hurry  to  the  shore 

To  watch  some  distant  sail. 
The  viind,  the  wind,  the  wind,  Hit  wind. 

Is  blowing  to  a  gale. 

But  when  he  pipes  all  sweet  and  low. 

The  piper  on  the  hill, 
I  hear  the  merry  women  go 

With  laughter,  loud  and  shrill: 
"The  wind,  the  wind  is  coming  south 

'Twill  blow  a  gentle  day." 
They  gather  on  the  meadow-laad 

To  toss  the  yellow  hay. 
The  wind,  the  wind,  Ike  wind,  the  wind. 

Is  blowing  south  to-day. 

And  in  the  mom,  when  winter  comes, 

To  keep  the  piper  warm, 
The  little  Angels  shake  their  wings 

To  make  a  feather  storm: 
"The  snow,  the  snow  has  come  at  last!'' 

The  happy  children  coll. 
And  "ring  around"  they  dance  in  glee, 

And  watch  the  snowtlakes  fall. 
Tht  vind,  the  wind,  the  wind,  the  wind, 

Has  spread  a  snoviy  poll. 

But  rfien  at  night  the  piper  plays, 

I  have  not  any  fear, 
Beouise  God 's  windows  open  wide 

The  jwctty  tune  to  hear; 


The  Wind  and  the  Moori  133 

And  vben  each  crowdiog  spirit  lodu. 

From  its  star  window-paae, 
A  watching  mother  may  behold 

Her  little  cliild  agaiii. 
Th«  vntid,  Ihe  wmi,  Ike  wmd,  Iht  icind,      ■ 

Uay  blow  her  home  again. 

Dora  Sigtrson  Shorter  [18    - 


Said  the  Wind  to  the  Moon,  "I  will  blow  you  out; 

You  stare 

In  the  air 

Like  a  ghost  in  a  chair, 
Always  looking  what  I  am  about — 
I  hate  to  be  WAtcbedj  I'll  blow  you  out." 

Tie  Wind  blew  hard,  and  out  went  the  Moon. 

So,  deep 

On  a  heap 

Of  clouds  to  sleep, 
Down  lay  (he  Wind,  and  Numbered  soon. 
Muttering  low,  "I've  done  tor  that  Moon." 

He  turned  in  bis  bed;  she  was  there  again! 

On  high 

In  the  sky, 

With  her  one  ghost  eye. 
The  Moon  shone  white  and  alive  and  plain. 
Said  the  Wind,  "I  will  blow  you  out  again." 

The  Wind  blew  hard,  and  the  Moon  grew  doa. 

"With  my  sledge. 

And  my  wedge, 

I  have  knocked  off  her  edge! 
If  only  I  Mow  r^t  fierce  and  grim, 
The  creature  will  iood  be  dimmer  than  dimj" 

p:hy  Google 

134  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

He  blew  and  he  blew,  and  sh«  thinned  to  a  thread. 

"One  puff 

More 's  enou^ 

To  blow  her  to  snufl! 
One  good  pufi  more  where  the  last  was  bred, 
And  glimmer,  glimmer,  glum  will  go  tbe  thread." 

He  blew  a  great  blast,  and  the  thread  was  gone. 

In  the  air 


Was  a  moonbeam  bare; 
Far  off  and  harmless  the  shy  stars  shone — 
Sure  and  certain  the  Moon  was  gone! 

The  Wind  he  took  to  his  revels  once  more; 

On  down. 

In  town, 

Like  a  merry-mad  down, 
He  leaped  and  halloed  with  whistle  and  roar — 
"What's  that?"    The  glimmering  thread  once  more 

He  flew  in  a  rage— he  danced  and  blew; 

But  in  vain 

Was  the  pain 

Of  his  bursting  brain; 
For  still  the  broader  the  Moon-scrap  grew. 
The  broader  he  swelled  his  big  cheeks  and  blew. 

Slowly  she  grew— till  she  tilled  the  night. 

And  shone 

On  her  throne 

In  the  sky  alone, 
A  matchless,  wonderful  silvery  light. 
Radiant  and  lovely,  the  queen  of  the  night. 

Said  the  Wind : ' '  What  a  marvel  of  pow»  am  I! 

With  my  breath, 

Good  faith ! 

I  blew  her  to  deatfi — 
First  blew  her  away  right  out  of  the  aky— 
Then  blew  her  in;  what  stiength  have  11" 


Baby  Seed  Song  135 

But  the  Moon  die  knew  nothing  about  the  tSaii; 
For  high 
In  the  sky, 
With  faer  one  white  eye. 

I  love  him  best  of  alll 

Edith  XeibU  [iSs^ 


LmtE  brown  brother,  oh!  little  brown  brother, 

Are  you  awake  in  the  dark? 
Here  we  lie  cosily,  close  to  each  other: 

Hark  to  the  song  of  the  lark — 
"Waken!"  the  lark  says,  "waken  and  dress  you; 

Put  on  your  greec  costs  and  gay. 
Blue  sky  will  shine  on  you,  sunshine  caress  yeu — 

Waken!  'tis  morning — 'ti»Mayl" 


rjfi  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Little  brown  brother,  oh  I  little  brown  brother, 

What  kind  of  flower  will  you  be? 
I'll  be  a  poppy — all  while,  like  my  mother; 

Do  be  a  poppy  like  me. 
What!  you're  a  sun-flower?    How  I  shall  miss  you 

When  you're  grown  gcdden  and  high! 
But  I  shall  send  all  the  bees  up  to  kiss  you; 

Little  brown  brother,  good-bye. 

Edilh  NesbU  [1858- 


Gay  little  Dandelion  , 

Lights  up  the  meads, 

Swings  on  her  slender  toot, 

Tellelh  her  beads, 
Lists  to  the  robin's  note  _  ■ 

Poured  from  above; 
Wise  little  Dandelion 

Asks  not  for  love. 
Cold  lie  the  daisy  banks 

Clothed  but  in  green, 
Where,  in  the  days  agone. 

Bright  hues  were  seen. 
Wild  pinks  are  slumbering, 

Violets  delay; 
True  little  Dandelion 

Greeteth  the  May. 
Brave  little  Dandelion! 

Fast  falls  the  snow. 
Bending  the  daffodil's 

Haughty  head  low. 
Under  that  fleecy  tent, 

Careless  of  cold. 
Blithe  little  Dandelion 

Countcth  her  gold. 
•  Meek  little  Dandelion 

Groweth  mare  fair, 
Till  dies  the  arabCT  dew 

Out  from  her  hair. 

p:hy  Google 

'Little  White  Lily  jyj' 

High  rides  the  thirsty  si 
Fiercely  and  high; 

Funt  little  Dandelion 
Closeth  her  eye. 

Pale  little  Dandelion, 


Tiom  •■  Witliio  and  Without  " 

LmLE  White  Lily  sat  by  a  stone, 
DroopiDg  and  waiting  till  the  sun  shone.. 
Little  White  Lily  sunshine  has  fed; 
Little  White  Lily  is  lifting  her  head. 

Little  White  Lily  said:  "It  is  good, 
Little  White  Lily's  clothing  and  food." 
Little  White  Lily  dressed  like  a  bride! 
Shining  with  whiteness,  and  crowned  beside! 
Little  White  Idly  drooping  with  pain, 
Waiting  and  waiting  for  the  wet  rain, 
Little  While  Lily  hddeth  her  cup; 
Rain  is  fast  falling  and  filling  it  up. 

Little  White  Lily  said:  "Good  again, 
When  I  am  thirsty  to  have  the  nice  rain. 
Now  I  am  stronger,  now  I  am  cool; 
Heat  cannot  bum  me,  my  veins  are  so  full.'" 


p:hy  Google 

Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Ring-ting!    I  wish  I  were  a  Primrose, 
A  bright  yellow  Primrose,  blowing  in  the  Springl 
The  stooping  bough  above  me. 
The  wandering  bee  to  love  me, 
The  fem  and  moss  to  creep  across. 
And  the  Elm-tree  for  our  KingI 

Nay, — stay!    I  wish  I  were  an  E3m-tree, 
A  great  lofty  Elm-tree,  with  green  leaves  gay! 

The  winds  would  set  them  dancing. 

The  sun  and  moonshine  glance  in. 
The  Birds  would  house  among  the  boughs. 
And  sweetly  sing! 

O — no!    I  wish  I  were  a  Robin, 
A  Robin  or  a  little  Wren,  everywhere  to  go; 

Through  forest,  field,  or  garden. 

And  ask  no  leave  or  pardon. 
Till  Winter  comes  with  icy  thumbs 
To  ruffle  up  our  wing. 

Well— teU!    Where  should  lily  lo, 
Where  go  to  sleep  in  the  dark,  wood  or  dell? 
Before  a  day  was  over. 
Home  comes  the  rover. 
For  Mother's  kiss, — sweeter  this 
Than  any  other  thing! 

William  Atlintkim  {1814-1889! 

I  SPIED  beside  the  garden  bed 

A  tiny  iass  of  ours, 
Wlio  stopped  and  bent  her  sunny  head 

Above  the  red  June  flowers. 

Pusbiag  the  leaves  and  thorns  apart, 

She  singled  out  a  rose. 
And  in  its  inmost  crimson  heart, 

EnrAptured,  plunged  her  nose. 


Gkd  Day  139 

"0  dear,  dear  rose,  «»ne,  tell  me  tnie — 

Come,  teU  vae  true,"  said  afae, 
"If  I  smell  just  as  sweet  to  you 

As  you  smell  sweet  to  mel" 

Emat  Crosby  [iSs6-igo7l 


Is  this  a  time  to  be  doady  and  sad, 
When  out  mother  Nature  laughs  around; 

When  even  the  deep  blue  heavens  look  glad , 
And  gladness  breathes  from  the  blossominig  ground? 

Here  are  notes  of  joy  from  the  hang-bird  and  wren. 
And  the  gossp  of  swallows  through  all  the  sky; 

The  ground-squirrel  gaity  chirps  by  his  den, 
And  the  wilding  bee  biuns  merrily  by. 

The  ckiuds  are  at  play  in  the  azure  space 
And  thdr  shadows  at  play  on  the  bright-green  vale. 

And  here  they  stretch  to  the  frolic  chase, 
And  there  they  roll  on  the  easy  gale. 

Hiere's  a  dance  of  leaves  in  that  aspen  bower, 
Here's  a  titter  of  winds  in  that  beechen  tree, 

Tliere's  a  smile  on  the  fruit,  and  a  smile  on  the  flower. 
And  a  laugh  from  the  brook  that  runs  to  the  sea. 

And  look  at  the  broad-faced  sun,  how  he  smiles 
On  the  dewy  earth  that  smiles  in  his  ray, 

On  the  leaping  waters  and  gay  young  Isles; 
Ay,  look,  and  he'll  smile  thy  gloom  awsty. 

Wiiliam  CuOat  Bryant  11794-1878} 


Here's  another  day,  dear, 
Here's  the  sun  again 
Peeping  ifi  his  pleasant  way 
Through  the  window  panei 


i40  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Rise  and  let  him  id,  dvai. 
Hail  him  "hjp  hurray! " 
Now  the  fun  will  all  b^n. 
Here's  another  day! 

Down  the  coppice  path,  dear. 
Through  the  dewy  glade, 

(When  the  Morning  took  her  bath 
What  a  splash  she  made!) 
Up  the  wet  wood-way,  dear, 
Under  dripping  green 

Run  to  meet  another  day. 

Mushrooms  in  the  field,  dear, 

Show  their  silver  gjeam. 
What  a  dainty  crop  they  yidd 

Firm  as  clouted  cream, 

Cool  a^  balls  of  snow,  dear. 

Sweet  and  fresh  and  round! 
Ere  the  early  dew  can  go 

We  must  clear  the  ground. 

Such  a  lot  to  do,  dear. 

Such  a  lot  to  see! 
How  we  ever  can  get  through 

Fairly  puzzles  me. 

Hurry  up  and  out,  dear. 

Then— away!  away! 
In  and  out  and  round  about. 

Here's  another  day! 

W.  Graham  Robtrlson  |j867- 


Tigek!  Tigerl  burning  bright, 
In  the  forests  of  the  night, 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Could  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry? 

p:hy  Google 

Answer  to  a  Child's  Question        I41 

In  what  distant  deeps  or  skies 
Burnt  the  fire  of  thine  eyes? 
On  what  wings  dare  he  aapire? 
What  the  hand  dare  seize  the  fire? 

And  what  shoulder,  and  what  art. 
Could  twist  the  ttnewe  of  thy  heart? 
And  when  thy  heart  began  to  beat, 
What  dread  hand  and  what  dread  teet? 

What  the  hammer?  what  the  chain? 
In  what  furnace  was  thy  brain? 
What  the  anvil?  what  dread  grasp 
Dare  its  deadly  terrors  clasp? 

When  the  stars  threw  down  their  spears. 
And  watered  heaven  with  their  tears, 
Did  He  smile  His  work  to  see? 
Did  He  wio  made  the  Lamb,  make  thee? 

Tiger!  Tiger!  burning  bright, 
In  the  forests  of  the  oigbt. 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Dare  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry? 

William  Blake  I17S7-1817I 


Do  you  ask  what  the  birds  say?    The  Sparrow,  the  Dove, 

The  Linnet  and  Thrush  say,  "I  love  and  Hove!" 

In  the  winter  they're  silent — the  wind  is  so  strong; 

What  it  sa>-s,  I  don't  know,  but  it  sings  a  toud  song. 

But  green  leaves,  and  blossoms,  and  sunny  warm  weather, 

And  singing,  and  loving— flU  come  back  together. ' 

But  the  Lark  is  so  brimful  of  gladness  and  love, 

llw  green  fields  below  him,  the  blue  sky  above, 

Tlut  be  sings,  and  he  sings,  and  for  ever  sings  he — 

"Hove  my  Love,  and  my  Love  loves  me!" 

Samu^  Taylor  Coleridge  [i7Ta-i834| 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Ago 

I'll  tell  you  bow  the  leaves  cune  down. 

The  great  Tree  to  bis  children  said: 
"You're  getting  sleepy.  Yellow  and  Brown, 

Yes,  very  sleepy,  little  Red, 

It  b  quite  time  to  go  to  bed." 
"Ah!"  begged  each  silly,  pouting  leaf, 

"Let  us  a  little  longer  stay; 
Dear  Father  Tree,  behold  our  grief! 

Tis  such  a  very  pleasant  day. 

We  do  not  wsnt  to  go  away." 
So,  just  for  one  more  merry  day 

To  the  great  Tree  the  leaflets  dung. 
Frolicked  and  danced,  and  bad  their  way, 

Upon  the  autumn  breezes  swung, 

Whispering  all  their  sports  among — 
"  Perhaps  the  great  Tree  wHl  forget, 

And  let  us  stay  until  the  spring, 
If  we  all  beg,  and  coax,  and  fret," 

But  the  great  Tree  did  no  such  thing; 

He  smiled  to  hear  them  whispering. 
"Come,  children,  all  to  bed,"  he  cried; 

And  ere  the  leaves  could  urge  their  prayer, 
He  shook  his  head,  and  far  and  wide, 

Fluttering  and  rustling  everywhere, 

Down  sped  the  leaflets  through  the  air. 
I  saw  them ;  on  the  ground  they  lay, 

Golden  and  red,  a  huddled  swarm, 
Waitbg  till  one  from  far  away. 

While  bedclothes  heaped  upon  her  arm. 

Should  come  to  wrap  them  safe  and  warm. 
The  great  bare  Tree  looked  down  and  smiled. 

"  Goodnight,  dear  little  leaves,"  he  said. 
And  from  below  each  sleepy  child 

Replied,  "Goodnight,"  and  murmured, 

"It  is  JO  nice  to  go  to  bedl" 

Siuan  CtKiidfe  liS45->905] 


A  Legehd  of  the  Northland         14.3 


Away,  away  in  the  Northland, 
Where  the  hours  of  the  day  are  few, 

And  the  nights  are  bo  long  in  winter 
That  they  cannot  sleep  them  through; 

Where  they  haraeu  the  swilt  reindeer 
To  the  sledges,  when  it  snows; 

And  the  children  Took  like  bear's  cubs 
In  their  funny,  furry  clothes: 

They  tell  them  a  carious  story — 

I  don't  believe  'ti^  true; 
And  yet  you  may  learn  a  lesson 

If  I  tell  the  tale  to  you.  ; 

Once,  when  the  good  Saint  Peter 

LrKd  bi  the  world  below. 
And  walked  about  it,  preaching. 

Just  as  he  did,  you  know, 

He  came  to  the  door  of  a  cottage. 
In  traveling  round  the  earth. 

Where  a  little  woman  was  making  cakes, 
And  baking  them  on  the  hearth^ 

And  being  faint  with  fasting. 
For  the  day  was  almost  done, 

He  asked  her,  from  het  store  of  cakes. 
To  give  him  a  single  one. 

So  she  made  a  very  little  cake, 

But  as  it  baking  lay, 
She  looked  at  it,  and  thought  it  seemed 

Too  large  to  give  away. 

Therefore  she  kneaded  another. 

And  still  a  smaller  one; 
But  it  looked,  when  she  turned  it  over, 

As  large  as  the  first  had  done. 


;  144  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Then  she  took  a  tiny  scrap  of  dough, 

And  rolled  and  rolled  il  fUt; 
And  baked  it  thin  as  a  wafer — 

But  she  couldn't  part  with  that. 

For  she  said,  "My  cakes  that  seem  too  small 

When  I  eat  of  them  myself, 
Are  yet  too  large  to  give  away." 

So  she  put  them  oo  the  ahelf. 

Then  good  Saint  Peter  grew  angry, 

For  he  was  hungry  and  faint; 
And  surely  such  a  woman 

Was  enough  to  provoke  a  saiat. 

And  he  said,  "You  are  far  too  selfish 

To  dwell  in  a  human  fDrm, 
To  have  both  food  and  shelter, 

And  fire  to  keep  you  warm. 
"Now,  you  shall  build  as  the  birds  do, 

And  shall  get  your  scanty  food 
By  boring,  and  boring,  and  boring. 

All  day  in  the  hard,  dry  wood." 
Then  up  she  went  through  the  chimney, 

Never  speaking  a  word, 
And  out  of  ihe  top  flew  a  woodpecker, 

For  she  was  changed  to  a  bird. 

She  had  a  scarlet  cap  on  her  head, 

And  that  was  left  the  same, . 
But  all  the  rest  of  her  clothes  were  burned 

Black  as  a  coal  in  the  flame. 
And  every  country  school-boy 

Has  seen  her  in  the  wood. 
Where  she  lives  in  the  trees  till  this  very  day, 

Boring  and  boring  for  food. 
And  this  is  the  lesson  she  t«aches:  . 

Live  not  for  yourself  alone, 
Lest  the  needs  you  will  not  pity 

Shall  one  day  be  your  own. 


The  Cricket's  Story  145 

Give  plenty  of  »iat  is  given  to  you, 

Listen  to  pity's  call; 
Don't  think  the  little  you  give  is  great. 

And  the  much  you  get  is  small. 

Now,  ray  little  boy,  remember  that. 

And  try  to  be  kind  and  good, 
When  you  see  the  woodpecker's  sooty  dress. 

And  see  her  scarlet  hood, 

Vou  mayn't  be  dianged  to  a  bird  though  you  live 

As  selfishly  as  you  can; 
But  you  win  be  changed  to  a.  smaller  thing — 

A  mean  and  selfish  man. 

Pktiie  Cory  li»)4~jg7i] 

The  high  and  mighty  lord  of  Gtendare, 
The  owner  of  acres  both  broad  and  fair, 
Searched,  once  on  a  time,  his  vast  domains. 
His  deep,  green  forest,  and  yellow  plains. 
For  some  raresinger,  to  make  complete 
The  studied  charms  of  his  country-seat; 
But  found,  for  tdl  his  pains  and  labors, 
No  sweeter  songster  than  had  his  neighbors. 

Ah,  what  ^udl  my  lord  of  the  manor  do? 

He  pondered  the  day  and  the  whole  night  through. 

He  called  on  the  gentry  of  hill-top  and  dale; 

And  at  last  on  Madame  the  Nightingale, — 

Inviting,  in  his  miijesticaJ  way, 

Her  pupils  to  sing  at  his  grand  soiree, 

That  pertjiance  among  them  my  lord  might  find 

Some  singer  to  whom  his  heart  inclined. 

What  wonder,  then,  when  the  evening  came. 

And  the  castle  gardens  were  all  aflame 

With  the  imuiy  curious  li^ts  that  hung 

O'er  the  ivied  pordies,  and  Bared  among 

Hie  gi&nd  old  trees  and  the  banners  proud. 

That  many  a  heart  beat  high  and  loud, 


146  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

While  the  famous  choir  of  Glendare  Bog, 
Established  and  led  by  the  Brothers  Prog, 
Sat  thrumming  as  hoarsely  as  they  were  abte, 
In  front  of  the  manager's  mushroom  tabl«l 

The  overture  closed  with  a  crash— then,  harict 
Across  the  stage  comes  the  sweet-voiced  Lark. 
She  daJDtUy  sways,  with  an  airy  grace, 
And  flutters  a  bit  of  gossamer  lace. 
While  the  leafy  alcove  echoes  and  thrills 
With  her  liquid  runs  and  lingering  trills. 
Miss  Goldfinch  came  next,  in  her  .satin  gown, 
And  shaking  her  feathery  flounces  down, 
With  much  expression  and  feeling  sung 
Some  "Oh's"  and  "  Ah's"  in  a  foreign  tongue; 
While  to  give  the  affair  a  classic  tone. 
Miss  Katydid  rendered  a  song  of  her  own, 
In  which  each  line  closed  as  it  bad  begun, 
With  some  wonderful  deed  which  she  had  done. 
Then  the  Misses  Sparrow,  so  prim  and  set, 
Twittered  and  chirped  through  a  long  duet; 
.  And  poor  little  Wren,  who  tried  with  a  will. 
But  who  couldn't  tell  "Heber"  from  "Ononvillc," 
Unconscious  of  sarcasm,  piped  away 
And  courtesied  low  o'er  a  huge  bouquet 
Of  crimson  clover-heads,  culled  by  the  dozen, 
By  some  brown-coated,  plebeian  cousin. 

But  yoit  should  have  heard  the  red  RoUn  ang 
His  English  ballad,  "Come,  beautiful  %)ringl" 
And  Master  Owlet's  melodious  tunc, 
"O,  meet  me  under  the  silvery  moon!" 
Then,  as  flighty  Miss  Humming-bird  didn't  caie 
To  sing  for  the  high  and  mighty  Glendare, 
The  close  of  the  evening's  performance  fell 
To  the  fair  young  Nightingale,  MademoiaeJle, 
Ah!  the  wealth  of  each  wonderful  note 
That  came  from  the  depths  of  her  tiny  throKtl 
She  carolled,  she  trilled,  and  she  held  her  bicath. 
Till  she  seemed  to  hang  at  the  point  of  death: 


■    The  Snging-lesson    '  147 

She  ran  the  chromatics  tbraugfa  every  keji, 

And  ended  triumfrftant  on  upper  C; 

Airing  the  graces  her  niother  hid  taoght  her 

Id  a  manner  quite  worthy  of  Madamefs  dau^ter. 

But  his  lordship  glared  do^n  the  leafy  a»le 

With  never  so  much  as  a  nod  or  smile, 

Till,  out  in  the  shade  of  a  bilberry  thicket. 



le  a  mistake; 
She  sang  a  few  notes  out  of  tone; 
Her  heart  was  ready  to  bieal. 
And  she  irid  away  from  the  moon. 


1+8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

She  wrung  her  claws,  poor  thing! 

But  was  far  too  proud  to  weep; 
She  tucked  her  head  under  her  wmg, 

And  pretended  to  be  asleep. 

A  lark,  arm  in  arm  with  a  thrush, 

Came  sauntering  up  to  the  place; 
The  nightingale  (elt  herself  blush, 

Though  feathere  hid  her  face. 
She  knew  they  had  heard  her  song, 

She  felt  them  snicker  and  sneer; 
She  thought  that  life  was  too  long. 

And  wished  she  could  skip  a  year. 

"(Ml,  Nig^itingale,"  cooed  a  dove— 

"Oh,  Nightingale,  what's  the  use? 
You  bird  of  beauty  and  love, 

Why  behave  like  a  goose? 
Don't  skulk  away  from  our  sight, 

Like  a  common,  contemptiWe  fowl; 
You  bird  of  joy  and  delight, 

Why  behave  like  an  owl? 

"Only  think  of  all  you  have  done, 

Only  think  of  all  you  can  do; 
A  false  note  is  really  fun 

From  such  a  bird  as  you! 
Lift  up  your  proud  little  crest, 

Open  your  musical  beak; 
Other  birds  have  to  do  their  best- 

You  need  only  to  speak." 

The  nightingale  shyly  took 

Her  head  from  under  her  wing, 
And,  giving  the  dove  a  look. 

Straightway  began  to  sing. 
There  wu  never  a  bird  could  pass; 

The  night  was  divinely  calm. 
And  the  people  stood  on  the  grass 

To  hear  that  wonderful  psalm. 


Chanticleer  149 

The  ni^tingale  did  not  care; 

She  odIj'  sang  Co  the  ikies; 
Her  song  ascended  there, 

And  there  she  Axed  her  eyes. 
The  people  that  stood  below 

She  knew  but  little  about; 
And  this  tale  has  a  moral,  I  know. 

If  you'll  try  to  find  it  out. 

Jiaii  luititJB  [iSio-iaB?] 


Or  all  the  birds  from  East  to  West  • 

That  tuneful  are  and  dear, 
I  love  that  farmyard  bird  the  best. 

They  call  him  Chanticleer. 

Gaid  plume  and  copper  plume. 

Comb  of  scarlet  gay; 
'Tis  he  Ihat  scatters  night  and  gloom, 

And  wkislles  back  the  day! 

He  is  the  sun's  brave  herald 

That,  ringing  his  blithe  horn. 
Calls  round  a  world  dew-pearled 

The  heavenly  airs  of  mom. 

0  clear  gold,  shrill  and  bold! 

He  calls  through  creeping  mist 
The  mountains  from  the  night  and  cold 

To  rose  and  amethyst. 

He  sets  the  birds  to  singing, 

And  calls  the  flowers  to  rise; 
Tile  momiog  rometh,  bringing 

Sweet  Eleq>  to  heavy  eyes. 

Cold  plume  and  stiver  plume, 

Comb  0/  coral  gay; 
'Tis  he  packs  of  Ihe  night  and  gloom, 

And  summons  home  ihe  day! 

p  hyGoogle 

150  poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Black  fear  he  sends  it  flying. 
Black  care  he  drives  alar; 

And  creeping  shadows  sighing 
Before  the  morning  star. 

The  birds  of  all  the  forest 

Have  dear  and  pleasant  cheer. 

But  yet  I  hold  the  rarest 
The  farmyard  Chanlideer. 

Red  cock  or  black  cock. 

Gold  cock  or  while, 
TheftimeroJaUUteJealheredfioch,    ■■ 

He  whislies  back  the  ligktl 

Katharine  Tynan  I1861- 


From  "  Sea  Drewni  " 

What  does  little  birdie  say 
In  her  nest  at  peep  of  day? 
Let  me  fly,  says  little  birdie, 
Mother,  let  me  fly  away. 
Birdie,  rest  a  little  longer, 
Till  the  little  wings  are  stronger. 
So  she  rests  a  iitUe  longer, 
Then  she  flies  away. 

What  does  little  baby  say. 
In  her  bed  at  peep  of  dayi* 
Baby  says,  like  little  birdie, 
Let  me  dsfrand  fly  away. 
Baby,  ^eep  a  little  longer. 
Till  the  little  limbs  ate  stronger. 
If  she  ^eeps  a  little  longer. 
Baby  too  shall  fly  away. 

Alfred  Tamys^a  [i8oi)-i89jJ 


Jack  Frost 


When  the  voices  of  children  are  heard  on  the  green 

And  Uughing  is  heard  on  the  hill, 
My  heart  is  at  rest  within  my  breast, 

And  everything  else  b  stiU. 

Then  come  home,  my  children,  the  sun  is  gene  down, 
And  the  dews  of  the  night  arise; 
Come,  come,  leave  off  play,  and  let  us  away 
TSl  the  morning  appears  in  the  skies." 

"  No,  no,  let  ua  play,  for  it  is  yet  day, 

And  we  cannot  go  to  sleep; 
Besides  in  the  sky  the  h'ttle  birds  fly, 

And  the  hills  are  all  covered  with  sheep," 

"  Well,  well,  go  and  play  till  the  light  fades  away, 

And  then  go  home  to  bed." 
ITie  little  ones  leaped  and  shouted  and  laughed; 

And  all  the  hills  cchoM, 

Wmiam  Blake   [1757-1897) 


The  door  was  shut,  as  doors  should  be. 
Before  you  went  to  bed  last  night; 

Yet  Jack  Frost  ha&  got. in,  you  sec. 
And  left  your  window  silver  white. 

He  mi  II  you  slept; 

Ant  1  he  spoke. 

But  p  anes  and  crept 

Awi  TO  woke. 

And  now  you  cannot  see  the  hills 
Nor  fields  that  stretch  beyond  the  lane; 

But  there  are  fairer  thio^  than  these 
His  fingers  traced  on  every  pone. 


152  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Rocks  and  castles  towering  high; 

Hills  and  daJes,  and  streams  and  fields; 
And  knights  in  annor  riding  fay, 

With  nodding  plumes  and  shining  shields. 

And  here  are  little  boats,  and  there 

Big  ships  with  sails  spread  to  the  breeae; 

And  yonder,  palm  trees  waving  fair 
On  islands  set  in  silver  seas. 

And  butterflies  with  gauzy  wings; 

And  herds  of  cows  and  flocks  of  sheep; 
And  fruit  and  flowers  and  all  the  things 

You  see  when  you  are  sound  asle^. 

For  creeping  softly  underneath 
The  door  when  ail  the  lights  are  out. 

Jack  Frost  takes  every  breath  you  breathe. 
And  knows  the  things  you  think  about. 

He  paints  them  on  the  window  pane 
In  (airy  lines  with  frozen  sicam; 

And  when  you  wake  you  see  again 
The  lovely  things  you  saw  in  dream. 

Cabrid  SOoun  (1S61- 


October  gave  a  party; 

The  leaves  by  htmdtcds  came— 
The  Chestnuts,  Oaks,  and  Maples, 

And  leaves  of  every  name. 
The  Sunshine  spread  a  carpet, 

And  everything  was  grand. 
Miss  Weather  led  the  dancing. 

Professor  Wind  the  band. 

*  Tlie  Chestnuts  came  in  yellow. 
The  Oaks  in  crimson  dressed; 
The  lovely  Misses  Maple 
In  scarlet  looked  their  best; 


Nikdiiu  IJ3 

All  balanced  to  their  partners. 

And  gaily  fluttered  by; 
tlie  sight  was  like  a  rainbow 

New  fallen  from  the  sky. 

Then,  in  the  rustic  hoUow, 

At  hide-and-seek  they  played, 
The  party  closed  at  sundown, 

And  everybody  stayed. 
Profeasor  Wind  played  louder; 

They  Jew  along  the  ground; 
And  then  the  party  ended 

In  jolly  "hands  around." 

George  Cooper  I1840- 

How  sweet  is  the  Shepherd's  sweet  ioti 
From  the  morn  to  the  evening  he  strays; 
He  shall  foUow  his  sheep  alt  the  day, 
And  his  tongue  shall  be  filled  witb  praise. 
For  he  hears  the  lamb's  innocent  call, 
And  he  hears  the  ewe's  tender  reply; 
He  is  watchful,  while  they  aic  in  peace, 
For  they  know  when  tbdr  Shepherd  is  nigh. 

William  Blakt  [1757-1817 

Otell  me,  little  children,  have  you  seen  her — 
The  tiny  maid  from  Norway,  NikolinaP 
0,  her  eyes  are  blue  as  cornflowers,  mid  the  com, 
And  her  cheeks  are  rosy  red  as  skies  of  morn! 
Nikolina!  swiff  she  turns  if  any  call  her, 
Pis  she  stands  among  the  poppies,  hardly  taller, 
Breaking  off  their  scarlet  cups  for  you, 
With  spikes  of  slender  larkspur,  burning  blue. 
In  her  little  garden  many  a  flower  is  growing- 
Red,  gold,  and  pur^de  in  the  soft  wind  blowing. 
But  the  child  that  stands  anud  the  blossoms  gay 
Is  sweeter,  quainter,  brighter  e'en  than  Ibey. 

COia  Tkaxter  11835-1834 


154  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Little  Gustava  sits  in  the  sun, 
Safe  in  the  porch,  and  the  L'ttle  drops  nm 
From  the  icicles  under  the  eaves  so  fast, 
For  the  bright  spring  sun  shines  warm  at  last, 

And  glad  is  little  Gustava. 
She  wears  a  quaint  little  scarlet  cap. 
And  a  little  green  bowl  she  holds  in  her  lap, 
Filled  with  bread  and  milk  to  the  brim, 
And  a  wreath  of  marigolds  round  the  rim: 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughs  little  Gustava. 
Up  comes  her  little  gray  coaxing  cat 
With  her  little  pink  nose,  and  she  mews,  "W 
Gustava  feeds  her, — she  begs  for  more; 
And  a  little  brown  hen  walks  in  at  the  door: 

"Good  dayl"  cries  little  Gustava. 
She  scatters  crumbs  for  the  little  brown  hen. 
There  comes  a  rush  and  a  flutter,  and  then 
Down  fly  her  little  white  doves  so  sweet, 
With  their  snowy  wings  and  crimson  feet: 

"Welcome!"  cries  Utile  Gustava. 
So  dainty  and  eager  they  pick  up  the  crumbs. 
But  who  is  this  through  the  doorway  comes? 
Little  Scotch  terrier,  little  dog  Rags, 
Looks  in  her  face,  and  his  funny  tail  wags: 

"Hal  ha!"  laughs  little  Gustava. 
"You  want  some  breakfast  too?"  and  down 
She  sets  her  bowl  on  the  brick  floor  brown; 
And  little  dog  Rags  drinks  up  faer  milk, 
While  she  strokes  his  shaggy  locks  like  silk: 

"Dear  Rags!"  says  little  Gustava. 
Waiting  without  stood  sparrow  and  crow, 
Cooling  their  feet  in  the  melting  snow: 
"Won't  you  come  in,  good  folk?"  she  cried. 
But  they  were  too  bashful,  and  stood  outside 

Tbon^  "Pray  come  inl"  cried  Gustava. 


Prince  Tatters  ^55 

So  the  last  she  threw  them,  and  kaelt  on  the  mat 
With  doves  and  biddy  and  dog  and  cat. 
And  her  mother  came  to  the  open  i)ou3e-door: 
"Dear  little  daughter,  I  bring  you  some  more. 
My  roeiry  little  Gustava  I " 

Kitty  and  terrier,  biddy  and  doves. 
All  things  harmless  Gustava  loves. 
The  shy,  kind  creatures  'tis  joy  to  feed, 
And  oh,  her  breakfast  is  sweet  indeed 
To  happy  little  Gustava! 

Cetia  ThaxUr  I1835-18B4I 

Little  t  his  capl 

Over  ; 

Into  th  !" 

N'ow  i/i  urse  may  fmne 

For  the  gay  little  cap  with  its  eagle  plume. 
"One  cannot  be  thinking  all  day  of  such  matterst 
Trifles  are  trifles!"  says  little  Prince  Tatters. 

Little  Prince  Tuteis  hu  lost  his  coat! 

Playing,  he  did  not  need  it; 
'"Ldt  it  rtgAi  ihtrt,  by  the  nanny-goat. 

And  nobody  never  seed  it!" 
Now  Mother  and  Nurse  may  search  till  night 
For  the  little  new  coat  with  its  buttons  bright; 
But — "Coat-sleeves  or  shirt-sleeves,  how  little  it  mattersi 
Trifles  are  triflesi"  says  little  Prince  Tatters. 

Little  Prince  Tatters  has  LOST  HIS  BAH! 

Rtrfled  away  down  the  street! 
Somebodyll  have  to  find  it,  that's  all. 

Before  he  can  sleep  or  eat. 
Xow  raise  the  neighborhood,  quickly,  do! 
Sad  send  for  the  crier  and  constable  tool 
"Trifles  are  trifles;  but  serious  matters, 
Tjic^must  be  seen  to,"  says  little  Prince  Tatters. 

Laura  E.  Richards  I1850- 

p:hy  Google 

156  poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


My  mother  bore  me  in  the  southern  w3d, 
And  I  am  black,  but  oh,  my  soul  is  whitel 

White  as  an  angel  Is  the  English  child. 
But  I  am  black,  as  if  bereaved  of  light. 

My  mother  taught  me  uodemeath  a  tree, 
And,  sitting  down  before  the  heat  of  day, 

She  look  me  on  her  lap  and  kissdd  me, 
And,  pointing  to  the  East,  began  to  say: 

"Look  on  the  rising  sun, —there  God  does  live, 
And  gives  His  light,  and  gives  His  heat  away; 

And  flowers  and  trees  and  beasts  and  men  receive 
Comfort  in  morning,  joy  in  the  noonday. 

"And  we  are  put  on  earth  a  little  space. 
That  we  may  learn  to  bear  the  beams  of  love; 

And  these  black  bodies  and  this  sunburnt  face 
Are  but  a  cloud,  and  like  a  shady  grave. 

"For,  when  our  souls  have  learned  the  heat  lo  bear, 
The  doud  will  vanish,  we  shall  hear  His  voice, 

Saying:  'Come  out  from  the  grove.  My  love  and  care. 
And  round  My  golden  lent  like  lambs  rejoice,' " 

Thus  did  my  mother  say,  and  kissSd  me; 

And  thus  I  say  to  little  English  boy. 
When  I  from  black,  and  he  from  white  cloud  free. 

And  round  the  tent  of  God  like  lambs  we  joy, 

I'll  shade  him  from  the  heat,  tBl  he  can  bear 
To  lean  in  joy  upon  our  Father's  knee; 

And  then  I'll  stand  and  stroke  his  silver  hair. 
And  be  like  him,  and  he  will  then  love  me. 

Wmiam  Blakt  (i7s7-iSit1 


The  Witch  in  the  Glass 


0  SAY  what  is  that  thing  called  Light, 
Which  I  must  ne'er  enjoy; 

What  are  the  blessings  of  the  sight, 
O  tell  your  poor  blind  boy! 

You  talk  of  wondrous  things  you  see, 
You  say  the  sun  shines  bright; 

1  feel  him  warm,  but  how  can  he, 
Or  make  it  day  or  night? 

My  day  or  night  myself  I  make 

Whene'er  I  sleep  or  play; 
And  could  I  ever  keep  awake 

With  me  'twere  always  day. 

With  heavy  sighs  I  often  hear 

You  mourn  my  hapless  woe; 
But  sure  with  patience  I  can  bear 
A  loss  I  ne'er  can  know. 

Then  let  not  what  I  cannot  have 

My  cheet  of  mind  destroy: 
Whilst  thus  I  sing,  I  am  a  king, 

Although  a  poor  blind  boy. 



"My  mother  says  I  must  not  pass 

Too  near  that  glass; 
She  is  afraid  that  I  will  see 
A  little  vitrk  that  looks  like  me, 
With  a  ted,  red  mouth,  to  wtrisper  low 
The  very  thing  I  should  not  knowl'' 

p:hy  Google 

158  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Alack  for  all  your  mother's  care! 

A  bird  of  the  air,  '' 

A  wistful  wind,  or  (I  suppose 
Sent  by  some  hapless  boy)  a  rose, 
With  breath  too  sweet,  will  whisper  low 
The  very  thing  you  should  not  know! 

Sarah  if.  B.  Piatt  [1836- 


I  HAVE  a  little  shadow  that  goes  in  and  out  with  me. 
And  what  can  be  the  use  of  him  is  more  than  I  can  see. 
He  is  very,  very  like  me  from  the  heels  up  to  the  head; 
And  I  see  him  jump  before  mc,  when  I  jump  into  my  bed. 

The  funniest  thing  about  him  is  the  way  he  likes  to  grow — 
Not  at  all  like  proper  children,  which  is  always  very  slow; 
For  he  sometimes  shoots  up  taller  like  an  India-rubber  ball. 
And  he  sometimes  gets  so  little  that  there's  none  of  him 
at  all. 

He  hasn't  got  a  notion  of  how  children  ought  to  play. 
And,  can  only  make  a  fool  of  mc  in  every  sort  of  way. 
He  stays  so  close  beside  me,  he's  a  coward  you  can  see; 
I'd  think  shame  to  stick  to  nursie  as  that  shadow  sticks  to 


One  morning,  very  early,  before  the  sun  was  up, 
I  rose  and  found  the  shining  dew  on  every  buttercup; 
But  my  lazy  little  shadow,  like  an  arrant  sleepy-head. 
Had  stayed  at  home  behind  me  and  was  fast  asleep  in  bed. 
Robert  Louis  Stevenson  (1SS0-1804I 


When  I  was  sick  and  lay  a-bed, 
I  had  two  pillows  at  my  bead. 
And  all  my  toys  beside  me  lay 
To  keep  me  happy  all  tlie  day. 

p:hy  Google 

The  Land  of  Story-books 

And  sometinies  for  anhotK  or  eo 
I  watched  my  le&den  soldiers  go, 
With  di&ercnt  uiufornis  and  drills, 
Among  the  bed-clothes,  thiough  the  fail 

And  sometimes  sent  my  ships  in  fleets 
All  up  and  down  among  the  sheets; 
Or  brought  my  trees  and  houses  out. 
And  planted  ddes  all  about. 




At  evening  when  the  lamp  is  lit. 
Around  the  fire  my  parents  sit; 
They  sit  at  home  and  talk  and  sing. 
And  do  not  play  at  anything. 

Now,  with  my  little  gun,  I  crawl 
All  in  the  dadt  along  the  naU, 
And  follow  round  the  forest  track 
Away  behind  the  sofa  back. 

There,  in  the  night,  where  none  can  spy 
All  in  my  hunter's  camp  I  lie. 
And  play  at  books  that  I  have  read 
Till  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed. 

Tbes  ic  woods, 


And  ,k 


As  if 


i6o  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

So,  wben  my  nnrse  oomes  in  for  m^ 
Home  I  return  across  the  sea, 
And  go  to  bed  vith  backward  loc^s 
At  my  dear  land  of  Story-bo(^. 

Robert  Louis  Siatenson  (1850-1894) 


The  gardener  does  not  love  to  talk. 

He  makes  me  keep  the  gravel  walk; 

And  when  he  puts  his  tools  away. 

He  locks  the  door  and  takes  the  key. 

Away  behind  the  currant  row 

Where  no  obe  else  but  cook  may  go, 

Far  in  the  plots,  I  see  him  dig. 

Old  and  serious,  brown  and  big. 

He  digs  the  flowers,  green,  red,  and  bhie. 

Nor  wi^cs  to  be  spoken  to. 

He  digs  the  flowers  and  cuts  the  hay, 

And  never  seems  lo  want  to  play. 

Silly  gardener!  summer  goes, 

And  winter  comes  with  pinching  toes, 

When  in  the  garden  bare  and  brown 

You  must  lay  your  barrow  down. 

Well  now,  and  while  the  summer  stays, 

To  profit  by  these  garden  days 

O  how  much  wiser  you  would  be 

To  play  at  Indian  wars  with  met 

Robert  Louis  Slaenson  (1850-1894) 

Up  info  the  cherry  tree 
Who  should  climb  but  little  mc7 
I  held  the  trunk  with  both  my  hands 
And  looked  abroad  on  foreign  lands. 
I  saw  the  next  door  garden  lie, 
Adorned  with  flowers,  before  ray  eye. 
And  many  pleasant  places  more 
That  I  had  never  seen  before. 


The  Peddler's  Caravan 

I  saw  the  dimpling  river  pass 
And  be  the  sky's  blue  looking-glass; 
The  dusty  roods  go  up  and  down 
With  people  tramping  in  to  town. 
It  I  could  find  a  higher  tree. 
Farther  and  farther  I  should  see, 
To  where  the  grown-up  river  slips 
Into  the  sea  among  the  ships; 


But  when  the  day  teturns  at  last. 
Sate  in  my  room,  beside  Ihe  pier, 
I  find  my  vessel  fast. 

RBbcrl  Loait  Slnatsei  li|(3-i8o4l 

I  WISH  I  lived  in  a  caravan. 
With  a  botse  to  drive,  like  a  peddler-man! 
Where  he  comes  from  nobody  knows, 
Or  where  he  goes  to,  but  on  he  goes! 

p:hy  Google 

a  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

His  caravan  has  windows  two, 

And  a  chimney  of  tin,  that  the  smoke  oomes  throu^; 

He  has  a  wife,  with  a  baby  brown. 

And  they  go  riding  from  town  to  town. 

Chairs  to  mend,  and  delf  to  selll 
He  clashes  the  basins  Uke  a  bell; 
Tea-trays,  baskets  ranged  in  order, 
Ptatcs,  with  alphabets  round  the  borderl 

The  roads  are  brown,  and  the  sea  is  green. 
But  his  house  is  like  a  bathing-machine; 
The  world  is  round,  and  he  can  ride, 
Rumble  and  slash,  to  the  other  side! 

With  the  peddlcr-man  I  should  like  to  roam, 
And  write  a  book  when  1  came  home; 
AU  the  people  would  read  my  book, 
Tust  like  the  Travels  of  Captain  Cookf 

William  Brighly  Rands  [i8aa-i88il 


A  WATCH  will  tell  the  time  of  day, 
Or  tell  it  nearly,  any  way. 
Excepting  when  it's  overwound, 
Or  when  you  drop  it  on  the  ground. 

If  any  of  our  watches  stop, 
We  haste  to  Mr.  Coggs's  shop; 
For  though  to  scold  us  he  pretends, 
He's  quite  among  our  f^ecial  friends. 

He  fits  a  dice-box  in  his  eye, 

And  takes  a  long  and  thou^tful  spy, 

And  prods  the  wheels,  and  says,  "Dear,  dear! 

More  careleesness,  I  greatly  fear." 

And  then  he  lays  the  dice-box  down 
And  frowns  a  most  prodigious  frown; 
But  if  we  ask  him  what's  the  time, 
He'll  make  his  g<^d  repeater  chime. 

Edmrd  VaraU  Lwcai  Fi86S< 


"There  Was  a  Jolly  Miller"        163 


They'll  come  a^ia  to  tlie  apple  tree — 

Robin  and  all  the  rest — 
When  the  orchard  branches  are  fair  to  see. 


From  "  Love  io  t  Village" 

Thue  was  a  joUy  mltter  once  livedon  the  river  Dee; 

He  danced  and  sang  from  mom  till  ni^t,  no  lark  so  blithe 

as  he; 
And  CUs  the  bordcn  of  his  sonf;  forever  ased  to  be: — 
"I  care  for  nobody,  ao  not  I,  if  ntfxxly  cares  for  tne. 

,7P-hy  Google 

164  poems  of  Youth  and  Agei    ' 

"I  live  by  my  mill,  God  bless  her!  she's  kindred,  child,  and 

I  would  not  change  my  station  for  any  other  in  life; 
No  lawyer,  surgeon,  or  doctor  e'er  had  a  groat  from  me; 
I  care  for  nobody,  no  not  I,  if  nobody  cares  for  me." 

When  spring  begins  his  merry  career,  oh,  how  his  heart 

grows  gay; 
No  summer's  drought  alarms  his  fear,  nor  whiter's  coid 

No  foresight  mars  the  miller's  joy,  who's  wont  to  sing  and 

"Let  others  toil  from  year  to  year,  I  live  from  day  to  day." 

Thus,  like  the  miller,  bold  and  free,  lc(  us  rejoice  and  sing; 
The  days  of  youth  are  made  for  glee,  and  timeison  the  wing; 
This  song  shall  pass  from  me  to  ihcc,  along  the  jovial  ring; 

Let  heart  and  voice  and  all  agree  to  say,  "Long  live  the  king." 
haac  Bicitrsliifl  ?  -i8i3?I 


Two  little  girls  are  better  than  one, 
Two  little  boys  can  double  the  fun, 
Two  little  birds  can  build  a  Cnc  nest, 
Two  little  arms  can  love  mother  best. 
Two  little  ponies  must  go  to  a  span; 
Two  little  pockets  ha6  my  little  man; 
Two  little  eyes  to  open  and  close, 
Two  little  cars  and  one  little  nose. 
Two  little  elbows,  dimpled  and  sweet, 
Two  little  shoes  on  two  little  feet, 
Two  little  lips  and  one  little  chin. 
Two  little  cheeks  with  a  rose  shut  in; 
Two  little  shoulders,  chubby  and  strong, 
Two  little  legs  running  all  daylong. 
Two  little  prayers  does  my  darling  say, 
Twice  does  he  kneel  by  my  side  each  day. 
Two  little  folded  hands,  soft  and  brown, 
Two  little  eyeliils  cast  raeddy  down, 


A  Nursery  Song  165 

And  two  little  angels  guard  him  in  bed, 
"One  at  the  foot,  and  one  at  the  head."  ■ 

Mary  iSapes  Dodge  |i838-igo5) 


Oh,  Peterkin  Pout  and  Gregory  Grout 

Are  two  little  goblins  black. 
Full  oft  from  my  house  I've  driven  them  out. 
But  somehow  they  still  come  back. 

They  clamber  up  to  the  baby's  mouth. 

And  pull  the  comers  down; 
They  perch  aloft  on  the  baby's  brow, 

And  twist  it  into  a  frown. 

And  one  says  "Must!"  and  t'other  says  "Can't!" 
And  one  says  "Shall!"  and  t'other  says  "Shan't!" 
Oh,  Peterkin  Pout  and  Gregory  Grout, 
I  pray  you  now  from  my  house  keep  out! 

'But  Samuel  Smile  and  I.<emuel  Laugh 

Are  two  Kttle  fairies  bright; 
They're  always  ready  for  fun  and  chaff, 

And  aunshioe  is  their  delight. 

And  when  they  creep  into  Baby's  eyes. 

Why,  there  the  sunbeams  are; 
.\od  when  they  peep  through  her  rosy  lips. 

Her  laughter  rings  near  and  far. 

And    one   says  "Please!"  and   t'other  says  "Do!" 
And  both  together  say  "I  love  you!" 
So,  Lemuel  Laugh  and  Samuel  Smile, 
Come  in,  my  dears,  and  tarry  awhile! 

Laura  B.  Richwds    Itljo- 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


I  STUDIED  my  tables  over  and  over,  and  backward  and 

forward,  loo; 
But  I  couldn't  remember  six  times  nine,  and  I  didn't  know 

what  to  do, 
Till  sister  told  me  to  play  with  my  doll,  and  not  to  bother 

my  head. 
"If  you  call  her  'Fifty-four'  for  a  while,  you  11  learn  it  by 

heart,"  she  said. 

So  I  took  my  favorite,  Mary  Ann  (though  I  thought  'twas 

a  dreadful  shame 
To  give  such  a  perfectly  lovely  child  such  a  perfectly  horrid 

And  I  called  her  my  dear  little  "Fifty-four"  a  hundred 

times,  till  I  knew 
The  answer  of  six  times  nine  as  weil  as  the  answer  of  two 

times  two. 

Neit  day   Elizabeth    Wiggles  worth,  who  always  a^ts  so 

Said,  "Six  times  nine  is  fifty-two,"  and  I  nearly  laughed 

But  I  wi^ed  I  hadn't  when  teacher  said,  "Now,  Dorothy, 

tell  if  you  can,"  ' 

For  I  thought  of  my  doll  and — sokes  dive! — I  answered, 

"Mary  Ann/" 

AniM  Maria  PratUjA    - 


0  THE  Raggedy  Man!   He  works  fer  Pa; 

An'  he's  tie  goodest  man  ever  you  saw! 

He  comes  to  our  house  every  day, 

An'  waters  the  horses,  an'  feeds  'em  hay; 

An'  he  opens  the  shed — an'  we  all  ist  laugh 

When  he  drives  out  oui  little  old  wobble-ly  caU; 


The  Raggedy  Man 

An'  nen — ef  our  hired  girl  says  he  caji — 

He  milks  the  cow  fer  'Lizabutb  Ann. — 

Ain't  he  a'  awful  good  Raggedy  Man? 

Raggedy!  Raggedyl  Raggedy  Man! 

An'  nother'n',  too,  fer  the  Raggedy  Man. — 

Ain't  he  a'  awful  kind  Raggedy  Man? 

Raggedyf  Raggedy!  Raggedy  Man! 

An'  the  Raggedy  Man,  he  knows  most  rhymes 
An'  tells  'em,  ef  I  be  good,  sometimes: 
Knows  'bout  Giunts,  an'  GiiSuos,  an'  Elves, 
An'  the  Squidgicum-Squees  'at  swaJlers  therselvesl 
An',  wite  by  the  pump  in  our  pasture-lot. 
He  showed  me  the  tacje  'at  the  Wunlu  is  got, 
'At  lives  'way  deep  in  the  ground,  an'  can 
Turn  into  me,  er  'Lizabuth  Ann! 
£r  Ma,  er  Pa,  er  the  Raggedy  Manj- 
Ain  't  he  a  fimny  old  Raggedy  Man? 
Raggedy!  Raggedy!  Raggedy  Man! 

The  Raggedy  Man — one  time  when  be 
Was  makin'  a  little  bow-n'-orry  fer  me. 
Says,  "When  you're  big  like  your  Pa  is. 
Air  you  go'  to  keep  a  fine  store  like  his — 
An'  be  a  rich  merehunt— an'  wear  fine  clothes?— 
Er  what  air  yon  go'  to  be,  goodness  knows?  " 
An'  nen  he  lauded  at  'Lizabuth  Aon, 
An'  I  says  "  'M  go'  to  be  a  Raggedy  Han! — 
I'm  ist  go'  to  be  a  nice  Raggedy  Man!" 
Raggedy!  Raggedy!  Raggedy  Man!    ■ 

/owe*  WkiUomb  Riiey  [ias'-i9'6l 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Said  the  Raggedy  Man,  on  a  hot  afternoon, 

What  a  lot  o'  mistakes 
Some  little  folks  makes  on  The  Man  in  the  Moon! 
But  people  that's  b 'en  up  to  see  him,  like  me, 
And  calls  on  him  frequent  and  intimutly. 
Might  drop  a  few  facts  that  would  interest  you 

If  you  wanted  'cm  to — 
Some  aclHol  facts  that  might  interest  you! 

"O  The  Man  in  the  Moon  has  a  crick  in  his  back; 

Whee!    • 
Ain't  you  sorry  for  him? 
And  a  mole  on  his  nose  that  ia  purple  and  black; 
And  his  eyes  are  so  weak  that  they  water  and  run 
If  he  dares  to  drtam  even  he  looks  at  the  sun, — 
So  he  jes'  dreams  of  stars,  as  the  doctors  advise — 

But  isn't  he  wise — 
To  Jes'  dream  of  stars,  as  the  doctors  advise? 

"And  The  Man  in  the  Moon  has  a  boil  on  bis  ear,- 
What  a  singular  thing! 
I  know!  but  these  facts  are  authentic,  my  dear^ — 
There's  a  boil  on  hb  ear;  and  a  corn  on  hia  chin,— 
He  calls  it  a  dimple — but  dimpJes  stick  in — 
Yet  it  might  be  a  dimple  turned  over,  you  kpowl 
Why,  certainly  so! — 
It  might  be  a  dimgde  turned  over,  you  know! 


Little  Orphant  Annie  i6^ 

"And  The  Man  in  the  Moon  has  a  rfaeumatic  knee, — 
What  a  pity  that  isl 
And  bis  toes  have  woriced  round  where  hb  heeb  ought 

to  be. 
So  whenever  he  wants  to  go  North  he  goes  South, 
And    comes  back    with    porridge    crumbs   all   round  his 

And  he  brushes  them  off  with  a  Japanese  fan. 

What  a  marvelous  man! 
What  a  very  remarkably  marvelous  man! 

".\ad  Hie  Man  in  the  Moon,"  sighed  the  Raggedy  Man, 

Sullonesome,  you  know,— 
Up  there  by  hisse'f  sence  creation  began!— 
That  when  I  call  on  him  and  then  come  away, 
He  grabs  me  and  holds  me  and  begs  me  to  stay, — 
TiH—WeUI  if  it  wasn't  fer  Jimmy-cum-Jim, 
I'd  go  pardners  with  him — 
Jes'  jump  my  job  here  and  be  pardncrs  with  html" 

Jama  Whitcamb  Riley  |T852-[gi6] 


Little  Orphant  Annie's  come  to  our  house  to  stay, 

,^n'  wash  the  cups  an'  saucers  up,  an'  brush  the  crumbs 

An'  shoo  the  chickens  off  the  porch,  an'  dust  the  hearth. 

An'  Dwke  the  fire,  an'  bake  the  bread,  an'  earn  her  board- 


I  TO  Poems  ■of  Youth  and  Age 

An'  all  us  other  children,  when  the  supper  thJngB  is  done. 
We  set  around  the  kitchen  fire  an'  has  the  mostest  lun 
A-lisl'nin'  to  the  witch-tales  'at  Annie  tells  about. 
An'  the  Gobblc-uns  'at  gits  you 
Ef  you 

Oac't  they  was  a  little  boy  wouldn't  say  his  prayers — 

An'  when  he  went  to  bed  at  night,  away  up  stairs. 

His  Mammy  heered  him  holler,  an'  his  Daddy  bsered  him 

An'  when  they  tum't  the  kiwers  down,  he  wasn't  there  at 

An'  they  seeked  him  in  the  rafter-room,  an'  cubby-hole, 

an'  press. 
An'  seeked  him  up  the  chimbly-flue,  an'  ever'wheres,  I  guess; 
But  all  they  ever  found  was  thist  his  pants  an'  roundabout: 
An'  the  Gobble-uns  'II  git  you 


An'  one  time  a  little  girl  'ud  alius  laugh  an'  grin, 

An'  make  tun  of  ever'  one,  an'  all  her  blood-an'-kin; 

An'  onc'l  when  they  was  "company,"  an'  ote  folks  was 

She  mocked  'em  an'  shocked  'em,  an'  said  she  didn't  care! 
An'  thist  as  she  kicked  her  heels,  an'  tum't  to  run  an'  hide, 
They  was  two  great  big  Black  Things  a-standin'  by  her 

An'  they  snatched  her  through  the  ceilin'  'fore  she  knowed 

what  she's  about! 
An'  the  Gobble-uns  '11  git  you 
Ef  you 


'    The  Night  Bird  171 

An'  little  Oiphant  Annie  says,  when  the  blaze  is  blue, 
An '  the  lamp-wick  sputters,  an '  the  wind  goes  woo-ool 
An'  you  hear  the  crickets  quit,  an'  the  moon  is  gray. 
An'  the  lightnin'-bugs  in  dew  is  all  squenched  away,— 
You  better  mind  yer  parents,  an'  yer  teachers  fond  and 

An'  churish  them  'at  loves  you,  an'  dry  the  orphant's  tear. 
An'  he'p  the  pore  an'  needy  ones  'al  dusters  all  about, 
Er  the  Gobble-uns  '11  git  you 
Out  I 

"■■      [I8s»-i9"6l 

It's  custard-pie,  first  thing  you  knowl 
An'  non  she'll  say, 
"Clear  out  o'  my  wayl 
Tlicy's  time  fer  work,  an'  time  fer  play! 

Take  yer  dough,  an'  run,  child,  nml 
Er  I  caint  git  no  cookin*  done!" 

'tends  like  she's  mad, 
t  to  walk  the  chalk 
er  wi^t  they  had!    ' 
poTch  an'  talk 
an  'at  mows  our  lawn; 
oi"  an'  nen  leans  on 
Hie  old  crook-scylhe,  and  bhnks  bis  eyes, 
An'  sniffs  all  'round  an'  says,  "I  swaffni 


172  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Ef  my  old  nose  don't  tell  me  lies, 
It  'pears  like  I  smell  custard -pies!" 
An'  nen  kc'll  say, 
"Clear  out  o'  my  way! 
They's  time  ter  work,  an'  time  (»  playl 
Take  yer  dough,  an'  run,  child,  run! 
Er  she  cain't  git  no  cookin'  done!" 
Wunst  our  hired  girl,  when  she 
Got  the  supper,  an'  we  all  et. 
An'  it  wua  night,  an'  Ma  an'  me 

An'  Pa  went  wher'  the  "Social"  met, — 
An'  nen  when  we  come  home,  an'  see 
A  light  in  the  kitchen  door,  an'  we 

Heerd  a  maccordeun,  Pa  says,  "Lan'- 
O'-GracioBS,  who  can  Aw  beau  be?" 
An' t  marched  in,  an'  'Lizabulh  Ann 
Wuz  parchin'  corn  fer  The  Raggedy  Man! 
Belter  say, 

"Clear  out  o'  the  way! 
They's  time  fer  work,  an'  tinte  fer  play! 
Take  the  hint,  an'  run.  child,  run! 
Er  we  cain't  git  no  courtin'  done!" 

Jamri  Whilcamb  Riley  |iS5i-'i9i6i 

I  ain't  afeard  uv  snakes,  or  toads,  or  bugs,  or  worms,  or 

^  An'  things  'at  girls  are  skeered  uv  I  think  are  awful  nice! 
■•  I'm  pretty  brave,  I  guess;  an'  yet  1  hate  to  go  to  bed. 
For,  when  I'm  tucked  up  warm  an'  snug  an'  when  my 

prayers  arc  said. 
Mother  tells  me  "  Happy  Dreams! "  an'  takes  away  the  light, 
,  An'  leavfs  me  lyin'  all  alone  an'  seein'  things  at  oight  1 
•  Sometimes  they're  in  the  coiner,  sometimes  they're  by  the 

'  Sometimes  they're  all  a-standin'  in  the  middle  uv  the  floor; 
Sometimes  they  are  s-sittin'  down,  sometimes  they're 

walkin'  round 
So  softly  and  so  creepylike  they  never  make  a  soundl 


Ttie  Duel  173 

Sometimes  they  are  as  black  as  ink,  an'  other  times  they're 

white—  V   rf. 

'But  the  color  ain't  no  difference  when  you  see  things  at 

'Once,  when  1  licked  a  feller  'at  had  just  moved  on  our  street, 
An'  father  sent  me  up  to  bed  without  a  bite  to  eat, 
I  wcdce  up  in  the  dark  an'  saw  thing!  standin'  in  a  low, 
'A-lookin'  at  roe  cross-eyed  aa'  p'intin'  at  me— sol 
'Oh,  my!  I  wuz  so  sLeered  that  lime  I  never  slep'  a  mite- 
It's  almost  alluz  when  I'm  bad  1  see  things  at  night! 

Locky  thing  I  ain't  a  girl,  or  I'd  be  skeered  to  deatht 
■  Bcin'  I'm  a  boy,  I  duck  my  head  an'  hold  my  breath^ 
An'  1  am,  oh,  so  sorry  I'm  a  naughty  boy,  an'  then 
'I  promise  to  be  better  an'  I  say  my  prayers  again! 
Gran'ma  tells  me  that's  the  only  way  to  make  it  right 
■When  a  feller  has  been  wicked  an'  sees  things  at  night!  - 

-An'  so.  when  other  naughty  boys  would  coax  me  into  sin, 
■I  try  to  skwush  the  Tempter's  voice 'at  urges  me  within; 
An'  when  they's  pie  for  supper,  or  cakes  'at's  big  an'  nice, 
I  want  to— but  I  do  not  pass  my  plate  f'r  them  things 

'No,  ruther  let  Starvation  wipe  me  slowly  out  o'  sight 
.  -Than  I  should  keep  a-livin'  on  an'  seein'  things  at  nightl 
'  Eugene  Field  [iSso-iSgsl 

The  gingham  dog  and  the  calico  cat 
Side  by  side  on  the  table  sat; 
Twas  half  past  twelve,  and  (what  do  you  think!) 
Not  one  nor  t'other  had  slept  a  wink! 
Tbc  oU  Dutch  clodt  and  the  Chinese  plate 
Appeared  to  know  as  sure  as  fate 
Tbere  was  going  to  be  a  terrible  spaL 
(/  wasn't  there:  I  simply  state 
What  was  told  to  me  by  the  Chinese  plaid) 

The  gingham  dog  went,  "Bow-wow-wow!" 
Aad  the  calico  cat  replied,  "Mee-owl" 
The  air  was  Uttered,  an  hour  or  so, 


174'  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

With  bits  of  gin^iBm  abd  calico, 
While  the  old  Dutch  dock  in  the  chimney-place 
Up  with  its  hands  before  its  face, 
For  it  always  dreaded  a  family  raw  I 
{Now  mind;  I'm  only  telling  you 
What  the  old  DuUh  dock  declares  is  tntt!) 

The  Chinese  plate  looked  very  blue. 
And  wailed,  "CHi,  dear!  what  AtaQ  we  dol" 
But  the  gingham  dog  and  the  calico  cat 
Wallowed  this  way  and  tumbled  that, 
Employing  every  tooth  and  daw 
In  the  awfullest  way  you  ever  saw — 
And,  oh!  how  the  gingham  and  calico  flew! 
{Don't  fancy  I  exaggerate — 
/  got  my  news  from  the  Chinese  plate!) 

Next  morning,  where  the  two  had  sat 
They  found  no  trace  of 
And  some  folks  think  u 
That  burglars  stole  thai 
But  the  truth  about  I  ip 

Is  this;  they  ate  each 
Now  what  do  you  really  think  of  that! 
{The  old  Dutch  dock  U  told  me  so, 
And  thai  is  Mow  I  came  to  know.) 

Eugene  Field  [1SS0-1805I 


'TwAS  on  a  Holy  Thursday,  their  innocent  faces  clean. 
Came  children  walking  two  and  two,  in  red.  and  blue,  and 

Gray-headed  beadles  walked  twfore,  with  wands  as  white  as 

Till  into  the  high  dcwae  of  Paul's  they  like  Thames  waters 

Ob  what  a  multitude  they  seemed,  these  flowers  of  London 

Seated  in  companies  they  sit,  with  radiance<ali  their  own. 


A   Story  for  a  Chfld  175 

The  hum  of  multitudes  was  there,  but  multitudes  of  lambs, 
Thousands  of  little  boys  and  girls  raising  their  innocent 

Now  like  a  mighty  wind  they  raise  to  heaven  the  voice  of 

Or  like  hannonious  ihunderings  the  seats  of  heaven  among: 
Beneath  them  sit  the  aged  men,  wise  guardians  of  the  poor. 
Then  cherish  pity,  lest  you  drive  an  angel  from  your  door. 
WiJliam  Blake  [1757-iSiTl 


Little  one,  come  to  my  knee! 

Hark,  how  the  rain  i&  pouring 
Over  the  loof,  in  the  pitch-black  night, 

And  the  wind  in  the  woods  a-ioahng! 

The  rain  and  the  night  together 
Came  down,  and  the  wind  came  after, 

Bending  the  props  of  the  pine-tree  roof, 
And  snapping  many  a  rafter. 

I  crept  along  in  the  darkness, 
Stunned,  and  bruised,  and  blinded, — 

Crept  to  a  fir  with  thick-set  boughs. 
And  a  sheltering  rock  behind  it. 

There,  from  the  blowing  and  raining, 
Crouching,  I  sought  to  bide  me: 

Something  rustled,  two  green  eyes  shone. 
And  a  wolf  lay  down  beside  me. 


lyfi  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

little  <Mie,  be  not  frightened; 

I  and  the  wolf  together, 
Side  by  side,  through  the  long,  long  night. 

Hid  from  the  awful  weather. 

His  wet  fur  pressed  against  me; 

Each  of  us  warmed  the  other; 
Each  of  us  felt,  in  the  stormy  dark, 

That  beast  and  man  was  brolher. 

And  when  the  falling  forest 

No  longer  crashed  in  warning, 
Each  of  us  went  from  our  hiding-place 

Forth  in  the  wild,  wet  morning. 

Darling,  kiss  me  paymenti 

Hark,  how  the  wind  is  roaring; 
Father's  house  is  a  better  place 

When  the  stormy  rain  is  pouring! 

Bayofd  Taylor  [[S25-137SI 


^^    •,  6  *i,     ^  ■  .  A,(.  .. 

"Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor?"  said  the  Spider  to  the 

"  'Tis  the  prettiest  Httle  parlor  that  ever  you  did  spy; 
The  way  into  my  parlor  is  tip  a  winding  stair, 
And  I  have  many  curious  things  to  show  when  you  are 

"Oh  no,  no,"  said  the  little  Fly,  "to  ask  me  is  in  vain; 
For  who  goes  up  your  winding  stair  can  ne'er  come  down 


"I'm  sure  you  must  be  weary,  dear,  with  soaring  up  so  high; 

Wilt  you  rest  upon  my  little  bed?"  said  the  Spider  to  the 
Fly.  *-; 

"There  are  pretty  curtains  drawn  around,  the  sheets  are 
fine  and  thin; 

And  if  you  liK^to  rest  a  while,  I'D  snugly  tuck  you  in!" 
■  "Oh  no,  no,"said  the  little  Fly,  "for  I've  often  beard  it  said. 

They  never,  never  wake  again,  who  sleep  upon  your  bed!" 


The  Spider  aad  the  F]y.  177 

Said  the  cunning  Spider  to  the  Fly,  "Dear  fncnd,  wtuut  ctn 

I  do 
To  prove  the  warm  affection  I've  always  felt  for  you? 
I  fiave,  within  my  psntry,  good  stotc  of  all  that's  mce;     ' 
I'tnsureymi're  very  welcome — will  you  please  to  take  a 

"Oh  no,  Do^said  the  little  Ry,  Tkind  sir,  that  oaBnot.bei: 
I've  beard  what's  in  ypiir  pantry,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  see!" 

"^xtet    creature," uaiid  the   Spider,  ^ou're  witty    and 

you  're  wise; 
Hoi  It  are 

If  >  your- 

^'l  fou're 

And  day." 

0  The  s  den. 

For  ain; 

The  ing,— 

"  Ct  silver 

■  *Alas,  alas!  how  very  soon  this  silly  little  Fly, 
.Ifearing  his  wily,  flattering  words,  came  slowly  flitting  by: 
'Wlh  buzzing  wings  she  hung  aloft,  then  near  and  nearer 

drew, — 
Thinking  only  of  her  brilliant  eyes,  and  green  and  puiple 

Thinking  only  of  her  crested  head — poor  foolish  thing!    At 

Up  jumped  tbe  cumuog  Spider,  and  fiercely  held  hei  fast. 

p:hy  Google 

178  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

He  <]ragged  her  up  his  vwtiing  stair,  into  bis  dismal  den 
Within  his  little  parlor-=Dut  she  ne'er  came  out  again! 

And  DOW,  dear  little  children,  who  may  this  story  read, 
To  idle,  silly,  flattering  words,  1  pray  you  ne'er  give  heed; 
Unto  an  evil  counsellor  close  heart,  and  ear,  and  eye. 
And  take  a  lessfm  from  this  tale  of  the  Spider  and  the  fly. 
Mary  Bmntt  {i7a«~i88S] 


We  were  crowded  in  the  cabin, 
Not  a  soul  would  dare  to  sleep,— 

It  was  midnight  on  the  waters, 
And  a  storm  was  on  the  deep. 

Tis  a  fearful  thing  in  winter 

To  be  shattered  by  the  blast. 
And  to  hear  the  rattling  trumpet 

Thunder,  "Cut  away  the  mast!" 

So  we  shuddered  there  in  silence, — 

For  the  stoutest  held  his  breath. 
While  the  hungrj-  sea  was  roaring 

And  the  breakers  talked  with  death. 

As  thus  we  sat  in  darkness, 

Each  one  busy  with  his  prayers, 
"We  are  lost!"  the  captain  shouted. 

As  he  staggered  down  the  stairs. 

But  his  little  daughter  whispered, 

As  she  look  his  icy  hand, 
"Isn't  (lod  upon  the  ocean, 

Just  the  same  as  on  the  land?" 

Then  we  kissed  the  little  maiden. 

And  we  spake  in  better  cheer, 
And  we  anchored  safe  in  harbor 

When  the  mom  was  shining  clear. 

James  Tkoma  Fidds  hSifr-iSSi] 


The  Nightingale  arid  Glow-wOrm     179 


A  moHTlNGALE,  that  a]l  day  loDg  ,  , 

Had  cheered  the  village  with  his  song, 

Nor  yet  at  eve  his  note  suspended. 

Nor. yet  when  eventide  was  coded, 

Began  to  feel,  as  well  he  might. 

The  keea  demands  of  appetitej 

When,  looking  e^eily  aiound. 

He  spied  far  off,  upon  the  giound, 

A  something  tuning  in  the  dark. 

And  knew  the  glow-wonn  by  his  spark; 

So,  stooping  down  from  hawtbora  top. 

He  thought  to  put  him  in  his  crop. 

The  worm,  aware  ot  his  intent, 

Harangued  him  thus,  right  eloquent: 

"Did  you  admire  my  lamp,"  qtoth  he, 

"As  much  aa  I  your  min^retsy, 

You  would  abhor  to  do  me  wrong. 

As  much  as  I  to  spoil  your  song; 

For  'twas  the  self-same  Power  Div&ie 

Taught  you  to  sing,  and  me  to  shine: 

That  you  with  mu^c,  I  with  light, 

Might  beautify  and  cheer  the  night." 

The  songster  heard  his  short  oration. 

And  warbling  out  his  approbation. 

Released  him,  as  my  story  tells, 

And  found  a  supper  somewhere  else. 

Hence  jarring  sectaries  may  leam 
Their  real  interest  to  discern ; 
That  brother  should  not  war  with  brother. 
And  worry  and  devour  each  other; 
But  sing  and  ^~ne  by  sweet  consent. 
Till  life's  poor  transient  night  is  spent. 
Respecting  in  each  other's  case 
Tia  gifts  of  nature  and  of  grace. 

Those  Christians  best  deserve  the  name 
Who  studiously  nuike  peace  their  aim; 

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i8o  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Peace  both  the  duty  and  the  prize 
Of  him  that  creeps  and  him  that  flies. 


Ftom  '■  Aikl»  Cathcart " 

"Good  morrow,  my  tordi"  in  the  sky  done, 
Sang  the  lark,  as  the  sun  ascmded  his  throne. 
"Shine  on  me,  my  lord;  I  only  am  come, 
Of  all  your  servants,  to  welcome  you  home. 
I  have  flown  right  up,  a  whole  hour,  I  swear, 
To  catch  the  first  shine  of  your  golden  hair." 

"Must  I  thank  you,  then,"  said  the  king,  "Sir  Lark, 

For  Sying  so  high  and  hating  the  dark? 

You  ask  a  full  cup  for  half  a  thirst: 

Half  was  love  of  me,  and  half  love  to  be  first. 

There 's  many  a  bird  makes  no  such  haste. 

But  waits  till  I  come:  that's  as  much  to  ray  taste." 

And  King  Sun  hid  his  head  in  a  turban  of  cloud, 

And  Sir  Lark  stopped  singing,  quite  vexed  and  cowed; 

But  he  flew  up  higher,  and  thought,  "Anon 

The  wrath  of  the  king  will  be  over  and  gone; 

And  his  crown,  shining  out  of  its  cloudy  fold. 

Will  change  my  brown  feathers  to  a  glory  of  gold." 

So  he  flew— with  the  strength  of  a  lark  he  flew; 
But,  as  he  rose,  the  cloud  rose  too; 
And  not  one  gleam  of  the  golden  hair 
Came  through  the  depths  of  the  misty  air; 
Till,  weary  with  flying,  with  sighing  sore, 
The  strong  sun-seeker  could  do  no  more. 

His  wings  had  had  no  chrism  of  gold: 

And  his  feathers  felt  withered  and  worn  and  old; 

He  faltered,  and  sank,  and  dropped  like  a  stone. 

And  there  on  her  nest,  where  he  left  her,  alone 

Sat  his  little  wife  on  her  little  e^s, 

Keeping  them  warm  with  win^  and  legs. 


Courtship,  Cock  Robin  and  Jenny  Wren    Ht 

Did  I  say  alone?    Ah,  no  such  'thing! 
Full  in  her  face  was  shining  the  king. 
"Welcome,  Sir  Lark!  You  look  tired,"  saitl  he; 
"  L'p  is  not  always  the  best  way  to  me. 
While  you  have  been  singing  so  high  and  away, 
I've  been  shining  to  your  little  wife  all  day." 

He  bad  set  his  crown  all  about  the  nest. 

And  out  of  the  midst  shone  ber  little  brvwn  breast; 

And  so  ^orious.  was  she  in  russet  gold, 

Tliat  for  wonder  ajid  awe  Sir  Larit  grew  cold. 

He  popped  bis  he&d  undet  her  wing,  and  lay 

As  still  as  a  stotie,  tSl  King  Sun  was  aw»y- 

George  Macdonald  [iSn-igos] 


It  was  a  merry  time 

When  Jenny  Wren  was  young. 
So  neatly  as  she  danced, 

And  so  sweetly  as  she  sung, 
Robin  Redbreast  lost  his  heart: 

He  was  a  gallant  bird; 
He  doScd  his  hat  to  Jenny, 
And  thus  to  ber  he  said: — 

"My  dearest  Jenny  Wren, 

If  you  will  but  be  mine, 
You  shall  dine  on  cherry  pie, 

And  drink  nice  currant  wine. 
111  dress  you  like  a  Goldiinch, 

Or  like  a  Peacock  gay; 
So  if  you'll  have  me,  Jenny, 

Let  us  appoint  the  day." 

Jenny  blushed  behind  her  fan, 

And  thus  declared  her  mind; 
"Then  let  it  be  to-morrow,  Bob, 

I  take  your  offer  kind — 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Cherry  pie  ik  very  goodl 

So  is  currant  wine! 
But  I  will  wear  my  brown  gown, 

And  never  dress  too  fine." 

Robin  rose  up  early 

At  the  break  of  day; 
He  flew  lo  Jenny  Wren 's  house, 

To  sing  a  roundelay. 
He  met  the  Cock  and  Hen,. 

And  bid  the  Cock  declare, 
This  was  his  wedding-day 

With  Jenny  Wren,  the  fair. 

The  Cock  then  blew  his  horn. 

To  let  the  neighbors  know. 
This  was  Robin 's  wedding-day. 

And  they  might  see  the  show. 
And  first  came  Parson  Rook, 

With  his  spectacles  and  band, 
And  one  of  Mother  Hubbard's  booka 

He  held  within  hb  hand. 

Then  followed  him  the  Lark, 

For  he  could  sweetly  sing. 
And  he  was  to  be  clerk 

At  Cock  Robin's  wedding. 
He  sang  of  Robin 's  love 

For  little  Jenny  Wren; 
And  when  he  came  unto  the  end,. 

Then  he  began  again. 

Then  came  the  bride  and  bridegroom; 

Quite  plainly  v.-^s  she  dressed. 
And  blushed  so  much,  her  cheeks  were 

As  red  as  Robin's  breast. 
But  Robici  cheered  her  up; 

"  My  pretty  Jen,"  said  he, 
"We're  going  to  be  married 

And  bsppy  we  shall  be." 


Courtship,  Cock  Robin  and  Jenny  Wren    J185 

The  Gddfinch  came  <ki  next, 

To  give  awky  the  bride; 
The  Linnet,  being  bride's  roaidj 

Walked  by  Jenny's  side; 
And,  as  she  was  a-walking, 

She  said,  "Upon  my  word, 
I  think  that  your  Cock  Robin 

fe  a  very  pretty  biid." 

The  Bulfinch  walked  by  Robin, 

And  thus  to  him  did  say, 
"Pray,  mark,  friend  Robin  Redbreast; 

That  Goldfinch,  dreseed  so  gay; 
What  though  her  gay  apparel 

Becomes  her  very  well, 
Yet  Jenny's  modest  dress  and  lodt 

Must  bear  away  the  bell." 

The  Blackbird  and  the  Thrush, 

And  charming  Nightingale, 
Whose  sweet  jug  sweetly  echoes 

Through  evety  grove  and  dale; 
The  Sfiarrow  and  Tom  Tit, 

And  many  more,  were  there: 
All  came  to  see  the  wedding 

Of  Jenny  Wren,  the  fair. 

"O  then,"  says  Parson  Rook, 

"Who  gives  this  maid  away?" 
"I  do,"  says  the  Goldfinch, 

"And  her  fortune  I  will  pay: 
Here 's  a  bag  of  grain  of  many  sorts, 

And  other  things  beside; 
Now  happy  be  the  brid^room, 

And  happy  be  the  bride!" 

"And  will  your  have  her,  Rt^Mn, 

To  be  your  wedded  wife?" 
"Yes,  I  will,"  says  Robin, 

"And  love  her  ail  my  life," 


184  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

"And  will  you  have  him,  Jamy, 

Vour  husband  now  to  be?" 
"Ves,  1  »iU,"  saya  Jenny, 

"And  love  him  heartily." 

Then  on  her  linger  fair 

Cock  Robin  put  the  ring; 
"You're  married  now,"  says  Paisos  Rook, 

While  the  Lark  aloud  did  sing: 
"Happy  be  the  bridegroom, 

And  happy  be  the  bride! 
And  may  not  man,  nor  bird,  nor  bcaet, 

This  liappy  pair  divide." 

The  birds  were  aMicd  to  dine; 

Not  Jenny 's  friends  alone, 
But  every  pretty  songster 

That  had  Cock  Robin  known. 
They  had  a  cherry  pie, 

Beside  some  currant  wine. 
And  every  guest  brought  sMncthing, 

That  sumptuous  they  might  dine. 

Now  they  all  sat  or  stood 

To  eat  and  to  drink; 
And  every  one  said  what 

He  happened  to  think: 
They  e<tch  tocA  a  bumper. 

And  dtank  to  the  pair: 
Cock  Robin,  ihc  bridegroom. 

And  Jenny  Wren,  the  fair. 

The  dinner-things  removed, 

They  all  began  to  sing; 
And  soon  they  made  llie  place 

Near  a  mile  round  to  ring. 
The  concert  it  was  fine; 

And  every  bird  tried 
Who  best  could  sing  for  Robin 

And  Jenny  Wren,  the  bride. 


The  Babes  in  the  Wood  185 

Tbeo  Id  came  the  Cuckoo  and  made  a  great  lo/at; 
He  caught  bold  of  Jenny  and  pulled  her  about. 
Cock  Robin  was  ai^y,  and  so  was  the  Sparrow, 
Who  fetched  in  a  hurry  his  bov  and  his  airow. 

His  aim  then  he  t<xk,  but  be  todc  it  not  right; 
His  skill  was  not  good,  or  he  shot  in  a  -fright; 
For  the  Cuckoo  he  missed,  but  Cock  Robin  killed! — 
And  all  the  birds  mourned  that  his  blood  was  so  spilled, 


Now  ponder  well,  yon  parenls  dear, 

These  words,  which  1  shall  write; 
A  doleful  story  you  shall  hear, 

In  time  brought  forth  to  light. 
A  gentleman  of  good  account 

In  Norfolk  dwelt  of  late, 
\Vbo  did  in  honor  far  sunnount 

Most  men  of  his  estate. 

Sore  sick  was  he,  and  like  to  die, 

No  help  his  life  could  save; 
His  wife  by  him  as  sick  did  lie. 

And  both  possessed  one  grave. 
No  love  between  these  two  was  lost. 

Each  was  to  other  kind; 
In  love  they  lived,  in  loved  they  died,' 

And  left  two  babes  bdiind: 

The  one  a  fine  and  pretty  boy, 

Not  passing  three  years  aid; 
The  other  a  gir)  more  yOung  than  he. 

And  framed  in  beauty's  mold. 
The  father  left  his  little  son, 

As  plainly  does  appear, 
When  be  to  perfect  age  should  come, 

Three  hundred  pounds  a  year. 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  to  his  little  da^igtitei  Jane 

Five  himdied  pounds  in  gold. 
To  be  paid  down  on  marri^e-day. 

Which  might  not  be  controlled: 
But  if  the  children  chance  to  die, 

Ere  they  to  age  should  come, 
Their  uncle  should  possess  their  wealth; 

For  so  the  will  did  run. 

"Now,  brother,"  said  the  dying  man, 

"Look  to  my  children  dear; 
Be  good  unto  my  boy  and  girl. 

No  Mends  else  have  they  here: 
To  God  and  you  1  recommend 

My  children  dear  this  day; 
But  little  while  be  sure  we  have 

Within  this  world  to  stay- 

"You  must  be  father  and  mother  both, 

And  uncle  all  in  one; 
God  knows  what  will  become  of  tbem, 

When  I  am  dead  and  gone." 
With  that  bespake  their  mother  dear, 

"0  brother  kind,"  quoth  she, 
"  You  are  the  man  must  bring  our  babes 

To  wealth  or  misery. 

"And  if  you  keep  them  carefully 

Then  God  will  you  reward;. 
But  if  you  otherwise  should  deal, 

God  will  your  deeds  regard." 
With  lips  as  cold  as  any  stone, 

They  kissed  their  children  small: 
"God  bless  you  both,  my  children  dear;" 

With  that  the  tears  did  fall. 

These  ^>eecbes  then  their  brother  ^i^e 

To  this  sick  couple  there, 
"The  keefnng  of  youi  little  ontfi. 

Sweet  sister,  do  not  fear; 


The  Bab«s  in  the  Wood  187 

God  never  prosper  me  nor  mine, 

Nor  aught  else  that  I  have. 
If  I  do  wrong  your  children  dear, 

When  you  are  laid  in  grave." 

The  parents  being  dead  and  gooe. 

The  children  home  be  takes, 
And  brings  them  straight  into  his  house, 

Where  much  of  them  he  makes; 
He  had  not  kept  these  pretty  babes 

A  twelvemonth  and  a  day, 
But,  for  their  wealth,  he  did  devise 

To  make  (hem  both  away. 

He  bargained  with  two  ruffians  strong. 

Which  were  of  furious  mood, 
That  they  should  take  these  children  young, 

And  slay  them  in  a  wood. 
He  tM  his  wife  an  artful  tale, 

He  would  the  children  srad 
To  be  brought  up  in  fair  London, 

With  one  that  was  his  friend. 

Away  tlien  went  these  iH«tty  babes, 

Rejoldng  at  that  tide, 
Rejoicing  with  a  meny  mind. 

They  should  on  cock-horse  ride. 
They  prate  and  prattle  pleasantly, 

As  they  rode  on  the  way, 
To  those  that  should  their  butidiers  be, 

And  work  their  lives'  decay: 

So  that  the  pretty  speech  they  had. 

Made  Murdw's  heart  relent; 
And  they  that  undertook  the  deed. 

Full  sore  did  now  repent. 
Yet  one  of  thein  more  hand  of  heart, 

Did  vow  to  do  his  chaige. 
Because  the  wretch  that  hired  him. 

Had  paid  him  very  large. 

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Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  other  won't  agree  thereto. 

So  here  they  fall  to  strife; 
With  one  another  they  did  fight. 

About  the  children's  life: 
And  he  that  was  of  mildest  mood. 

Did  slay  the  other  there, 
Within  an  unfrequented  wood; 

The  babes  did  quake  for  fearl 

He  took  the  children  by  the  hand, 

Tears  standing  in  their  eye, 
And  bade  them  straightway  follow  him, 

And  look  they  did  not  cry: 
And  two  long  miles  he  led  them  on, 

While  they  for  food  complain: 
"Stay  here,"  quoth  he,  "  I'll  biiog  yov  bread. 

When  I  come  back  again." 

These  pretty  babes,  with  hand  in  hand, 

Went  wandering  up  and  down. 
But  never  more  could  see  the  man 

Approaching  from  the  town; 
Their  pretty  lips  with  black-berries 

Were  all  besmeared  and  dyed. 
And,  when  they  saw  the  darksome  night, 

They  sat  them  down  and  cried. 

Thus  wandered  these  poor 

Till  death  did  end  their  grief; 
In  one  another's  arms  they  died. 

As  wanting  due  relief: 
No  burial  this  pretty  pair 

Of  any  man  receives, 
Till  Robin-red'breast  piously 

Did  cover  them  with  leaves. 

And  now  the  heavy  wrath  of  God 

Upon  their  uncle  fell; 
Yea,  fearful  fiends  did  haunt  his  house, 

His  conscience  felt  an  hcU: 

p:hy  Google 

God's  Judgment  on  a  Wicked  Bishop 

His  hams  were  filed,  his  goods  consumed. 
His  lands  were  barren  made, 

His  cattle  died  within  the  6tM, 
And  nothing  with  him  stayed. 

And  in  a  voyage  to  Portugal 

Two  of  his  sons  did  die; 
And,  to  conclude,  himself  was  brought 

To  want  and  misery; 
He  pawned  and  mortgaged  ail  his  land 

Ere  seven  years  came  about, 
And  now  at  length  his  wicked  act 

Did  by  this  means  come  out: 

The  fellow,  that  did  take  in  hand 

These  children  for  to  kill. 
Was  for  a  robbery  judged  to  die. 

Such  was  God's  blessed  will: 
Who  did  confess  the  very  truth 

As  here  hath  been  disf^yed: 
Thdr  uncle  having  died  in  jail. 

Where  he  f<w  debt  was  laid. 

You  that  executors  be  made, 


and  meek; 

■    .  ly  this  thing, 

his  right, 

Lest  God  with  such  like  misery 

Your  wicked  minds  requite. 


The  summer  and  autumn  hod  been  so  wet, 
That  in  winter  the  com  was  growing  yet: 
"Twas  a  piteous  sight  to  see,  all  armmd, 
The  grain  lie  rotting  on  tbe  ground. 


190  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Every  day  the  starving  poor 
Crowded  around  Bishop  Hatto's  door; 
For  he  had  a  plentiful  last -year's  store, 
And  all  the  neighborhood  oouM  tell 
His  granaries  were  furnished  well. 

At  last  Bishop  Hatto  appointed  a  day 

To  quiet  the  poor  without  delay; 

He  bade  them  to  his  great  barn  repair. 

And  they  should  have  food  for  the  winter  there. 

Rejoiced  such  tidings  good  to  hear. 
The  poor  folk  &}cked  from  far  and  ntar; 
The  great  barn  was  full  as  it  could  hold 
Of  women  and  children,  and  young  and  old. 

Tlien,  when  be  saw  it  could  hold  no  bmi%,  •/ . 
Bishop  Hatto  he  niade  fast  the  door; 
And,  while  for  mercy  on  Christ  they  call^ 
He  set  fire  to  the  baf  n,  and  burnt  tl^em  all. 

"I'  faith,  'tis  an  excdlent  bonfiie!"  quottbhe; 
"And  the  country  is  greatly  obliged  to  me 
For  ridding  it,  in  these  times  forlorn, 
Of  rats  that  only  consume  the  com." 

So  then  to  his  palace  returned  he. 

And  he  sal  down  to  supper  merrily, 

And  he  slept  that  night  like  an  inoocent  man; 

But  Bishop  Hatto  never  slept  again. 

In  the  morning,  as  he  entered  the  hall, 

Where  his  picture  hung  against  the  wall, 

A  sweat  like  death  all  over  him  came, 

'    Fbr  the  rats  had  eaten  it  out  <A  the  franae. 

As  he  looked,  there  came  a  man  from  his  farm, — 
He  had  a  cotmtenance  white  with  alarm: 
"My  Lord,  I  opened  your  granaries  this  mom, 
And  the  rats  had  eatco  all  your  com." 


God's  Judgment  on  a  Wicked  Bishop     191 

Another  came  running  presently, 
And  he  was  pale  as  pole  could  be. 
"Fly!  my  Lord  Bidwp,  flyl"  quoth  he, 
"Ten  thousand  rats  are  coming  this  way, — 
The  Lord  forgive  you  for  yesterdayl" 

"III  go  to  my  tower  in  the  Rhine,"  replied  be; 
"Tis  the  safest  place  in  Germany, — 
The  walls  are  high,  and  the  shores  are  steep. 
And  the  tide  is  strong,  and  the  water  deep." 

Bishop  Matto  fearfully  hastened  away, 


And  1  e 

ADtt  then. 

He  la 


On  hi  ame. 

He  listened  and  looked,— it  was  only  the  cat;         ' 
But  the  Bishop  he  grew  more  fearful  for  that. 
For  she  sat  screaming,  mad  with  fear, 
At  the  aimy  of  rats  that  were  drawing  near. 

For  they  have  swum  over  the  river  so  deep. 
And  they  have  climbed  [he  shores  so  steep. 
And  now  by  thousands  up  they  crawl 
To  the  holes  and  the  windows  in  the  wall. 

Down  on  his  kn<  3  fell, 

And  faster  and  I  Is  did  he  tell, 

As  louder  and  Ic  ;  near. 

The  saw  of  theii  it  he  could  hear. 

And  in  at  the  windows,  and  in  at  the  door, 
And  through  the  walls  by  thousands  they  pour; 
And  down  from  the  ceiling  and  up  through  the  floor, 
From  the  right  and  the  left,  from  behind  and  before. 
From  within  and  without,  from  above  and  below, — 
And  all  at  once  to  the  Bish^  they  go. 

p:hy  Google 

192  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

They  have  whetted  their  teeth  against  the  stones 
And  now  they  pick  the  Bishop's  bones; 
They  gnawed  the  flesh  from  every  limb, 
For  they  were  sent  to  do  judgment  on  him! 

Robert  S«ttik«y  [rrii-i 


A  child's  sioev 
I , 
Haueun  Town's  in  Brunswick, 
By  famous  Hanover  city; 

Apl  I; 

But,  » 

From  vermin  was  a  pity. 

They  fought  the  dogs  and  killed  the  cats. 

And  bit  the  babies  in  the  cradles. 
And  ate  the  dieeses  out  of  the  vats, 

And  licked  the  soup  from  the  cooks'  own 
Split  open  the  kegs  of  salted  sprats. 
Made  nesU  inside  men's  Sunday  hats, 
And  even  spoiled  the  women's  chats 

By  drowning  their  speaking 

With  shrieking  and  squeaking 
In  fifty  different  sharps  and  flaU. 

At  last  the  people  in  a  body 

To  the  Town  Hall  came  flocking: 
" 'TIS  dear."  cried  they,  "our  Mayor's  a  noddy; 

And  as  for  our  Corporation,- 


The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin 

To  think  we  buy  gowns  lined  with  ennine 
For  dolts  that  can't  or  won't  determine 
What's  best  to  rid  us  of  our  verminl 
You  hope,  because  you're  old  and  obese. 
To  find  in  the  hmy  civic  robe  easei* 
Rouse  up,  sirs!  Give  your  biaiiiE  a  lackijig, 
To  find  the  remedy  we're  lackii^. 
Or,  sure  as  fate,  we'll  send  you  packing!"  . 
At  this  the  Mayor  and  Corporation 
Quaked  with  a  mighty  consternation. 

An  hour  they  sat  in  council, — 

At  length  the  M«yor  broke  silence: 
"  For  a  guilder  I'd  my  inline  gown  sell; 

I  wish  I  were  a  mile  hence! 
ll's  easy  to  bid  one  rack  one's  brain, — 
I'm  sure  my  poor  head  aches  again, 
I've  scratched  it  so,  and  all  in  vain. 
Ob  for  a  trap,  a  tiap,  a  trapl " 
Just  as  he  said  this,  what  should  hap 
At  the  chamber-door  but  a  gentle  tap?  . 
"Bless  us,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "what's  Ihati"' 
(With  the  Corporation  as  he  aat, 
Looking  httle  though  wondrous  fat; 
Nor  brighter  was  his  eye,  nor  mobter 
Tlun  a  too-loQgH^ned  oyster, 
Save  when  at  noon  his  pauhch  grew  mutinous 
For  a  plate  of  turtle  green  and  glutinous) 
"Only  a  scraping  of  fibees  oh  the  mat P 
Anything  like  the  sound  of  a  cat 
Makes  my  heart  go  pit-a-patl" 

"CwQe  in!"  the  Mayor  cried,  lookii^  bigger: 
And  in  did  come  the  strangest  figurel 
His  queer  long  coat  from  heel  to  head 
Was  half  of  yellow  and  half  of  red, 
And  be  himself  was  tall  and  thin, 
With  sharp  blue  eyes,  each  like  a  pin, 


194  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age    ■. 

Ad<1  li^t  loose  hair,  yet  swarthy  skin, 

No  tuft  oa  cheek  nor  beard  on  dun. 

But  lips  where  smiles  went  out  and  in; 

There  was  no  guessing  his  kith  and  kin: 

And  nobody  could  enough  admire 

The  tall  man  and  his  quaint  attire. 

Quoth  one:  "It's  as  my  great-grandsire. 

Starting  up  at  the  Trump  of  Doom's  tone, 

Had  walked  this  way  from  his  painted  tombstone  I" 

He  advanced  to  the  council-table: 

And,  "Please  your  honors,"  said  he,  "  I'm  able. 

By  means  of  a  secret  charm,  to  draw 

All  creatures  living  beneath  the  sun, 

That  creep  or  swim  or  fly  or  run, 

After  me  so  as  you  never  saw! 

And  I  chiefly  use  my  charm 

On  creatures  that  do  people  harm, 

The  mole  and  toad  and  newt  nhd  vipw; 

And  people  call  me  the  Pied  Piper." 

(And  here  they  noticed  round  his  neck 

A  scarf  of  red  and  yellow  stripe, 

To  match  with  his  coat  of  the  self-same  check. 

And  at  the  scarf's  end  hung  a  pipe; 

And  his  fingers,  they  noticed,  wwe  ever  straying 

As  if  impatient  to  be  playing 

Upon  this  pipe,  as  low  it  dangled 

Over  hb  vesture  so  old-fangled.) 

"Yet,"  said  he,  "poor  piper  as  I  am, 

In  Tartary  I  freed  the  Cham, 

Last  June,  from  his  huge  swarms  of  gnats; 

I  eased  in  Asia  the  Nizam 

Of  a  monstrous  brood  of  vampire-bats; 

And  as  for  what  your  brain  bewilders, — 

If  I  can  rid  your  town  of  rats. 

Will  you  give  me  a  thousand  guilders?" 

"Onei"  fifty  thousand!"  was  the  exclamation 

Of  the  astonidwd  Mayor  and  Corporation. 


The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin 

Into  the  street  the  Piper  stepped. 

Smiling  fiist  a  httk  amile. 
As  if  he  knew  what  magic  slept 

In  his  quiet  pipe  the  while; 
Then,  like  a  musical  adept, 
To  blow  the  pipe  his  lips  he  wrinkled, 
And  green  and  blue  his  sharp  eyes  twinkled, 
Like  a  candle-flame  where  salt  is  sprinkled; 
And  ere  three  shrill  notes  the  pipe  uttered, 
You  heard  as  if  an  army  muttered; 

F<^wed  the  Piper  for  their  lives. 
From  street  to  street  he  pipicd  advancing. 
And  step  for  step  they  followed  dandng, 
Until  they  came  to  the  rifcr  Weser, 
Whei  ! 

— Sa'  'xsa.T, 

(As  I  irf)  I 

ToR  y, 

Whic  tes  of  the  S>ipe, 

Ihea  K, 

And  putting  apples,  wondrous  ripe, 

Into  a  cider-press's  gripe, — 

And  a  moving  away  of  pickle- tub-boards, 

And  a  leaving  ajar  of  conserve- cupboards, 

And  a  drawing  the  corks  of  train -oil-fla^, 

And  a  breaking  the  ho(^  of  butter-casks; 


196  Poems  of  Youth  snd  Age 

And  it  seemed  as  if  a  voice 

(Sweeter  far  than  by  harp  or  by  psaltery 

Is  breathed)  called  out,  'Oh  rats,  rejoice! 

The  world  is  grown  to  one  vast  dryEalteryl 

So  munch  on,  crunch  on,  take  your  nundieon. 

Breakfast,  supper,  dinner,  luncheon!' 

And  just  as  a  bulky  sugar-puncheon. 

Already  staved,  like  a  great  sun  shone 

Glorious  scarce  an  inch  before  me. 

Just  as  methought  it  said.  'Come,  bore  me!' — 

I  found  the  Weser  rolling  o'er  me." 

You  should  have  heard  the  Hamelin  people 
Ringing  the  bells  till  ihcy  rocked  tlit  steeple; 
"Go,"  cried  the  JIayor,  "and  get  long  poles! 
Poke  out  the  nests  and  block  up  the  holes! 
Consult  with  carpenters  and  builders, 
And  leave  in  our  town  not  even  a 
Of  the  rats!" — when  suddenly,  up  the  face 
Of  the  Piper  perked  in  the  market-place, 
With  a  "First,  if  you  please,  my  thousand  guilder 

A  thousand  guildersi  the  Mayor  looked  blue; 

So  did  the  Corporation  too. 

For  council-dinners  made  mrc  havoc 

With  Claret,  Moselte,  Vin-de-Grave,  Hock; 

And  half  the  money  would  replenish 

Their  cellar's  biggest  butt  with  Rhenish. 

To  pay  this  sum  to  a  wandering  fellow 

With  a  gypsy  coat  of  red  and  yellow! 

"Beside,"  quoth  the  Mayor,  with  a  kjDOwing  wink, 

"Our  business  was  done  at  the  river'3  brink) 

We  saw  with  our  eyes  the  vermin  sink. 

And  what's  dead  can't  come  to  life,  I  think. 

So,  friend,  we're  not  the  folks  to  shrink 

From  the  duty  of  giving  you  Bomething  to  drink, 

And  a  matter  of  money  to  put  in  your  poke; 


The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin         197 

But  as  for  the  guilders,  what  we  spoke 
Of  ihemf  as  you  v«ry  well  know,  was  in  jc4e. 
Beside,  our  losses  have  made  us  thrifty  i 
A  thousand  guildeis!  Come,  taJte  fiftyl" 

The  Piper's  face  fell,  and  be  cried, 

"No  trifling!  I  can't  wait!  beside, 

I  've  promised  to  visit  by  dinner  time 

Bagdat,  and  accept  (he  prime 

Of  the  Head  Cook 's  pottage,  all  he 's  ridi  in. 

For  having  !efl,  in  the  Caliph's  kitchen. 

Of  a  nest  of  scorpions  no  survivor: 

With  him  I  proved  no  bargain-driver; 

With  you,  don 't  think  I  '11  bate  a  stiver! 

And  folks  who  put  me  in  a  passion 

May  find  me  pipe  after  another  fashion." 

"How?"  cried  the  Mayor,  "d'ye  think  I  brook 

B^ng  worse  treated  than  a  Cook? 

Insulted  by  a  lazy  ribald 

With  idle  pipe  and  vesture  piebald? 

Vou  threaten  us,  fellow?    Do  your  worst, 

Blow  your  pipe  there  till  you  burst!" 

Once  more  he  stepped  into  the  street ; 

And  to  hb  lips  again 
Laid  his  long  pipe  of  smooth  straight  cane; 

And  ere  he  blew  three  notes  (such  sweet 
Soft  notes  as  yet  musician  '9  cunning  ■  • 

Never  gave  the  enraptured  air) 
There  was  a  rustling  that  seemed  like  a  bustling 
Of  merry  crowds  justhng  at  pitching  and  htutliugl 
SmaD  feet  were  pattering,  wooden  shoes  daltering. 
Little  hands  claf^ing,  and  Utile  tongues  chattering; 
And,  like  fowls  in  a  farm-yard  when  barley  is  scattering, 
Out  came  the  children  running: 


98  Poemg  of  Youth  and  Ag« 

All  the  little  boys  and  girb, 

With  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  cutis, 

And  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth  like  pearls. 

Tripping  and  skipping,  ran  merrily  after 

The  wonderful  music  with  shouting  and  latighter. 


The  Mayor  was  dumb,  and  the  Council  stood 

As  if  they  were  changed"  into  blocks  of  wood. 

Unable  to  move  a  step,  or  cry 

To  the  children  merrily  skipping  by, — 

And  could  only  follow  with  the  eye 

That  joyous  crowd  at  the  Piper's  back. 

But  how  the  Mayor  was  od  the  rack. 

And  the  wretched  Council  '3  bosoms  beat, 

As  the  Piper  turned  from  the  High  Street 

To  where  the  Weser  rolled  its  waters 

Right  in  the  way  of  their  sons  and  daughters! 

However,  he  turned  from  south  to  west. 

And  to  Koppelberg  Hill  his  steps  addressed. 

And  after  him  the  children  pressed; 

Great  was  the  joy  in  every  breast. 

"He  never  can  cross  that  mighty  top! 

He's  forced  to  let  the  piping  drop, 

And  we  shall  see  our  children  stop!" 

When,  lo,  as  they  reached  the  mountain-side, 

A  wondrous  portal  opened  wide. 

As  if  a  cavern  was  suddenly  hollowed; 

And  the  Piper  advanced  and  the  children  followed; 

And  when  all  were  in,  to  the  very  last, 

The  door  in  the  mountain-side  shut  fast. 

Did  I  say,  all?    No!    One  was  lame, 

And  could  not  dance  the  whole  of  the  way; 

And  in  after  years,  if  you  would  blame 

His  sadness,  he  was  used  to  Eay,-~^ 

"It's  dull  in  our  town  since  my  playmates  leftl 

I  can 't  forget  that  I  'm  bereft 

Of  all  the  pleasant  sights  they  see. 

Which  the  Piper  also  !»omised  me; 

p:hy  Google 

The  Pied  Pipe/  of  Hwnelin       .' !• 

For  he  led  tu,  he  said,  {o  a  JOybus  l&ml, 

Joining  the  town  and  juEt  at  hand, 

Where  watera  guehcd,  and  fimt-tfees  grew, 

And  Sowers  put  forth  a  fairer  hue,  , 

Aod  everything  was  &trat^  and  new; 

The  spairows  w»e  brighter  thaa  peacocks  hoc, 

And  their  dogs  outran  our  f  aUow  deer. 

And  honey-beea  bad  lost  their  stings, 

And  hoises  were  bora  with  eagles' wings; 

And  just  as  I  became  assured 

My  lame  foot  would  be  speedily  cured. 

The  music  stopped  and  I  stood  still, 

And  found  myself  outside  the  hiJl, 

Left  alooe  against  nay  will, 

To  go  now  limping  as  before,  i 

And  never  hear  of  that  country  morel" 

Alas,  alas  for  Hatnelin! 

There  came  into  many  a  burgher's  pate 

A  text  wtaidi  says  that  heaven's  gate 

Opes  to  the  rich  at  as  easy  rate 
As  the  needle's  eye  lakes  a  camel  in! 
The  Mayor  sent  East,  West,  North  and  South, 
To  offer  the  Piper,  by  word  of  mouth, 

Wherever  it  was  men  'a  lot  to  find  him, 
Sflver  and  gold  to  his  heart's  content, 
If  he'd  only  return  the  way  he  went, 

And  bring  the  children  behind  him. 
But  when  they  saw  'twas  a  lost  endeavor. 
And  piper  and  dancers  were  gone  forever, 
They  made  a  decree  that  lawyers  never 

Should  think  their  records  dated  duly 
If,  after  the  day  of  the  month  and  year, 
These  words  did  not  as  well  ^pear, 
"And  BO  long  after  what  happened  here 

On  the  Twenty-second  of  July, 
Ihirteen  hundred  and  seventy-Mx:" 
And  the  better  in  memory  to  fix 


200  Poems  of  Youth  and  Ag« 

llie  place  of  the  children's  last  retreat, 
They  called  it,  th&  Pied  Piper's  Street— 
Where  any  one  playing  on  pipe  or  tabor 
Was  sure  for  the  future  to  lose  his  labor. 
Nor  suffered  they  hostlery  or  tavern 

To  shock  with  mirth  a  street  so  sokaui; 
But  opposite  the  i^e  of  the  cavern 

They  wrote  the  story  on  a  column. 
And  on  the  great  church-window  painted 
The  same,  to  make  the  world  acquainted 
How  their  children  were  stolen  away, 
And  there  it  stands  to  this  very  day. 
And  I  must  not  omit  to  say 
That  in  Transylvania  there 's  a  tribe 
Of  alien  people  who  ascribe 
The  outlandish  ways  and  dress 
On  which  their  neighbors  lay  such  stress, 
To  their  fathers  and  mothers  having  risen 
Out  of  some  subterraneous  prison 
Into  which  they  were  trepanned 
Long  time  ago  in  a  mighty  band 
Out  of  Hamelin  town  in  Brunswick  land, 
But  how  or  why,  they  don 't  understand. 

So,  Willy,  let  me  and  you  be  wipers 
Of  scores  out  with  all  men — especially  pipers! 
And,  whether  (hey  pipe  us  free  fr6m  rats  or  fr6m  mice. 
If  we've  promised  them  aught,  let  us  keep  our  promise! 
Robert  Browning  Ii8i>-i889| 

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A  CARtX. 

He  came  all  so  slfll 
Where  His  mother  was, 

As  dew  in  April 
That  falleth  on  the  grass. 

He  came  all  so  still 
Where  His  mother  lay. 

As  dew  in  April 
That  falleth  on  the  spray. 

He  came  all  so  stUI 
To  His  mother's  bower, 

As  dew  in  April 
That  falleth  on  the  flower. 

Mother  and  maiden 
Was  never  none  but  shel 

Wdl  might  such  a  lady 
God's  mother  be. 


God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen, 

Let  nothing  you  dismay, 
For  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour, 

Was  boni  tipoD  this  day, 

To  save  us  all  from  Satan's  power  ' 

When  -we  were  gwie  astray. 

0  tidings  of  comfort  and  joyt 

For  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour, 

Was  bom  on  Christmas  Day. 


ao2  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

In  Bethlehem,  in  Jewry, 
This  blessed  babe  was  born, 

And  laid  within  a  manger. 
Upon  this  bless&j  morn; 

"Hie  which  His  mother,  Alary, 
Nothing  did  take  in  scorn. 

From  God  our  Heavenly  Father, 

A  blessdd  aogel  came; 
And  unto  certain  shepherds 

Brought  tidings  of  the  same; 
How  that  in  Bethlehem  was  bom 

TTie  Son  of  God  by  name. 

"Fear  not,"  then  said  the  angel, 
"Let  nothing  you  affright, 

This  day  is  born  a  Saviour 
Of  virtue,  power,  and  might. 

So  frequently  to  vanquish  all 
The  friends  of  Saian  quite." 

The  shepherds  at  these  tidings 
Rejoiced  much  in  mind, 

And  left  their  flocks  a-fecding 
In  tempest,  storm,  and  wind. 

And  went  to  Bethlehem  straightway. 
This  blessed  babe  to  find. 

But  when  to  Bethlehem  they  came, 

Whereat  this  infant  lay, 
Tbc^  found  Him  in  a  manger, 

Where  osen  feed  on  hay, 

His  mother  Mary  kneeling, 

Unto  ihe  Lord  did  pray. 

Now  to  the  Lord  nng  praises, 
All  ymi  within  this  place, 

And  with  true  love  sod  brotheiiiood 
E4ch  other  now  embrace; 

This  boly  tide  of  Christmas 
All  otherB  doth  deface. 


"  O  Little  Town  of  Bethlehem  "     203 

O  tidings  of  comfort  and  joy!  ' 
For  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour, 
Was  bom  in  Christmas  Day. 

O  LITTLE  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  silently,  how  silently, 

The  wondrous  gift  is  given! 
So  God  imparts  to  human  hearts 

The  blessings  of  His  heaven. 
No  ear  may  hear  His  coming, 

But  in  this  world  of  sin. 
Where  meek  souls  will  receive  Him  still,  ■ 

The  dear  Christ  enters  in, 

0  holy  Child  of  Bethlehem! 

Descend  to  us,  we  pray;  ' 

Cast  out  our  sin,  and  enter  in, 

Be  bom  in  us  toniay. 


204.  Poerris  of  Youth  and  Age  ■    ■ 

■     We  hear  the  Christmas  angeb 
The  great  glad  tidii^  tell; 
Oh  come  to  us,  abide  with  ua, 
Our  Lord  Emmanuel! 

Phillipi  Brooks  [iSjs-ii 


Old  Stylt:  i8j7 

It  was  the  cahn  and  silent  night! 

Seven  himdred  years  and  fifty-three 
Had  Rome  been  growing- up  to  might, 

And  now  was  Queen  of  land  and  sca. 
No  sound  was  heard  of  clashing  wars; 

Peace  brooded  o'er  the  hushed  domain; 
Apollo,  Pallas,  Jove  and  Mars, 

Held  undisturbed  their  ancient  rdgn, 

In  the  solemn  midnight 

Centuries  ago, 

'Twas  in  the  calm  and  silent  night! 

The  senator  of  haughty  Rome 
Impatient  urged  his  chariot's  flight. 

From  lordly  revel  rolling  home. 
Triumphal  arches  gleaming  swell 

His  breast  with  thoughts  of  boundless  sway; 
What  recked  the  Roman  what  befell 

A  paltry  province  far  away. 

In  the  solemn  midnight 
Centuries  ago! 

Within  that  province  far  away 

Went  plodding  home  a  weary  boor: 
A  streak  of  light  before  him  lay, 

Falt'n  through  a  half-shut  stable  door 
Across  his  path.    He  passed — for  naught 

Told  what  was  going  on  within; 
How  keen  the  stars!  his  only  thought; 

The  air  how  calm  and  cold  and  thin, 

■In  the  solemn  midnight 

Centuries  ago! 

p:hy  Google 

'  Shepherds  Watched  Their  Flocks  "     205 

Ostraoge  indificfcocel — ^lowandki^ 

Drowsed  over  comnon  joys  and  cai^; 
The  eutb  was  still — but  knew  not  why; 

The  world  was  listenaig~-unawaieri. 
How  calm  a  moment  may  precede 

One  that  shall  thiiU  the  vrodd  for  ever!     ' 
To  that  still  moment  mme  would  hedd, 

Man's  doom  was  linked,  no  mom  to  sever, 
In  Che  solemn  midnight 
Centuries  ago. 

It  JT  the  calm  and  solemn  ni^tl 

A  tbonsand  beUs  ling  out,  and  ttuow 
Their  joyous  peak  abroad,  and  smite 

The  darkness,  charmed  and  holy  now. 
The  night  that  erst  no  name  had  worn, 

To  it  a. happy  name  is  given; 
For  in  that  stable  lay  new-bom 
The  peaceful  Prince  of  Earth  and  Hqaven, 
In  the  solemn  midnight 
Centuries  ago. 

Affrsd  DenMlt  liSii-iSiy] 


While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night, 

All  seated  on  the  ground, 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  came  down. 

And  ^ory  shone  around. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  he,  for  mi^ty  dread 

Had  seized  their  troubled  mind; 
"  Glad  tidings  of  great  joy  I  bring 

To  you  and  all  mankind. 

"To  you,  in  David's  town,  this  day 

Is  bom,  of  David's  line. 
The  Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord, 

And  this  ^lall  be  the  sign: 


ao6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

"Hie  heavenly  babe  you  there  ihaU  find 

To  human  view  displayed, 
All  meanly  wraH>ed  in  swaddling  baoda. 

And  in  a  man^r  laid." 

Tbns  sp>Bie  the  senph;  and  forthwith 

Appealed  a  shining  throng 
Of  angels,  praising  God,  who  thus 

Addressed  their  joyful  sang: 

"All  ^ory  be  to  God  on  high, 

And  to  the  earth  be  peace; 
Good  will  henceforth  from  Heaveo  to  men 

Begin  and  never  cease." 

NaJum  Tale  [1651-1 


It  came  upon  the  midnight  daa. 

That  glorious  song  <rf  old. 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 

To  touch  their  harps  of  gold: 
"Peace  on  the  earth,  good  will  to  men 

From  heaven's  all-gradous  King" — 
The  world  in  solemn  stillness  lay 

To  hear  the  angels  sing. 

Still  through  the  cloven  skies  they  come 

With  peaceful  wings  unfurled, 
And  still  their  heavenly  music  floats 

O'er  all  the  weary  world; 
Above  its  sad  and  lowly  plains 

They  bend  on  hovering  wing. 
And  ever  o'er  its  Babel-sounds 

The  blessM  angels  sing. 

But  with  the  woes  oE  sin  and  strife 
The  world  has  suffered  long; 

fieneath  the  angel-strain  have  rolled 
Two  thousand  years  of  wrong; 

p:-hy  Google 

The  Angela  .207 

ADdflmn.^tTraTvitbmftB,  heats  tu>t      1 

The 'love-song  wtdcb  thaybring; — 
Oh,  hoati  the  noise,  ye  men  of  strife. 

And  hear  the  angels  sing! 

And  ye,  beneath  life's  cmslring  load. 

Whose  fonns  are  bending  low, 
Who  toil  along  the  climbing  way  . 

With  painful  steps  and  slow, 
LcN^  now !  for  glad  and  golden  hours 

Come  swiftly  on  the  wing; — 
Oh,  rest  beside  the  wcaiy  road 

And  hear  the  angels  sing! 

For  lo !  the  days  are  hastening  oQ 

By  prophet  bards  foretold. 
When  with  the  ever  circling  years 

G>mes  round  the  age  of  gold; 
When  Peace  Ehall  over  all  the  earth 

Il3  ancient  splendors  fling, 
Axd  the  whole  world  give  back  the  song 

Which  now  the  angels  sing. 

Edmund  HamilUm  Setirs  USityiSifH 


Fnmi  "Flowen  of  Sion" 

KuN,  shepherds,  run  where  Bethlehem  blest  appears. 
We  bring  the  best  of  news;  be  not  dismayed: 
A  Saviour  there  is  bom  more  (Ad  than  years. 
Amidst  heaven's  roUing  heights  this  eaith  who  stayed. 
,  In  a  poor  cottage  inned,  a  virgin  maid, 
A  weakling  did  him  bear,  who  all  upbeats; 
There  is  he  poorly  swaddled,  in  manger  laid, 
To  whom  too  narrow  swaddlings  are  out  spheres: 
Run,  shepherds,  run,  and  solemnize  his  birth. 
This  is  that  night — no,  day,  grown  great  with  bliss, 
Id  which  the  power  of  Satan  broken  is: 
In  heaven  be  gtory,  peace  unto  the  earthl 


i  Poems  of  Youdi  and  Age 

Thus  slngtng,  throu^  tke  air  the  angels  swarm. 
And  cope  of  stars  ro-echoM  the  soihe. 

WHUam  I>rwMMM^  (1585-1^9] 


As  I  in  hoary  winter's  night 

Stood  shivering  in  the  snow, 
Surprised  I  was  with  sudden  heat 

Which  made  my  heart  to  glow; 
And  lifting  up  a  fearful  eye 

To  view  what  fire  was  near, 
A  pretty  babe  all  burning  .bright 

Did  in  the  air  appear; 
Who,  scorchM  with  excessive  heat. 

Such  floods  of  tears  did  shed, 
As  though  His  floods  should  quench  His  llames. 

Which  with  His  tears  were  bred: 
"Alas!"  quoth  He,  "but  newly  born 

In  fiery  heats  I  fry, 
Yet  none  approach  to  warm  their  hearts 

Or  fed  my  fire  but  I! 

"My  faultless  breast  the  furnace  is; 

The  fuel,  wounding  thorns; 
Love  is  the  fire,  and  sighs  the  smoke; 

The  ashes,  shames  and  scorns; 
The  fuel  Justice  layeth  on, 

And  Mercy  blows  (he  coals, 
The  metal  in  this  furnace  wrought 

Are  men's  defilM  souls: 
For  which,  as  now  on  fire  I  am 

To  work  them  to  their  good, 
So  will  I  melt  into  a  bath, 

To  wash  them  fti  my  blood." 
With  this  He  vanished  out  ol  sight 

And  swiftly  shrunk  away, 
And  straight  I  callM  unto  mind 

That  it  was  Christmas  Day. 

Robert  SotOJmdl  ii$6ii-ists\ 


Christmas  Carol 


The  Ox  he  openeth  wide  the  Doore, 

And  from  the  Snowe  he  calls  her  inne, 
And  he  hath  seen  her  Smile  therefor, 
Our  Ladye  without  Sinne. 
Now  soone  from  Sleep 
A  Starre  shall  leap. 
And  soone  arrive  both  King  aod  Hinde: 

Amen,  Amen; 
But  O,  the  Place  w'd  I  but  findel 

The  Ox  hath  hushed  his  voyce  and  bent 

Trewe  eyes  of  Pilty  ore  the  Mow, 
And  on  his  lovelie  Neck,  forspent. 
The  Blessed  layes  her  Browe. 
Around  her  feet 
Full  Warine  and  Sweete 
His  bowcric  Breath  doth  meeklie  dwdl: 

But  sore  am  I  with  Vaine  Travai 

The  Oi  islMSt  in  Judah  staU 

And  Host  of  more  than  onelie  one. 

For  dose  she  gatherctb  withal 

Our  Lordc  her  httel  Sonne. 

Glad  Hinde  and  King 

Their  Gyfte  may  bring, 

But  wo'd  to-night  my  Teare*  were  there^ 

Amen,  Amen: 
Between  her  Bosom  and  His  hayre! 

Louise  Imogen  Guiney  fi86i- 


As  Joseph  was  a-waukin', 

He  heard  an  angel  sing, 
"This  night  shall  be  the  birthnight 

Of  Christ  our  heavenly  King. 


.  2IO  Poems  0/  Youth,  and  Age 

"His  birth-bed  shall  be  neither 

In  housed  nor  in  hall, 
Nor  in  the  place  of  paradise, 

Biit  in  the  OJten's  staU. 

"He  neither  shall  be  rockM         ; 

In  silver  nor  in  gold. 
But  in  the  wooden  manger 

That  Ueth  in  the  mould. 

"He  nrather  shall  be  waAen 
With  white  wine  nor  with  red. 

But  with  the  fair  spring  water 
That  on  you  shall  be  shed. 

"He  neither  shall  be  doth&l 

In  purple  nor  in  pall, 
But  in  the  fair,  white  linen 

That  usen  babies  all." 

As  Joseph  was  a-waukin', 

Thus  did  the  angel  sing. 
And  Mary's  son  at  midnight 

Was  bom  to  be  our  King. 

Then  be  you  glad,  goofl  people. 

At  this  time  of  the  year; 
And  light  you  up  your  candles, 

For  His  star  it  shineth  dcarl 




BuCETEST  and  best  of  the  Sons  of  the  morning! 

Dawn  on  our  darkness  and  lend  us  thine  aidi 

Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning. 

Guide  where  our  Infant  Redeemer  is  laid! 

Cold  on  His  cradle  the  dewdrops  *re  sjiining, 
Low  lies  His  head  with  the  beasU  of  the  stall; 

Angela  adore  Him  in  slumber  reclining. 
Maker  and  Monarch  and  Saviour  of  alll 


Christinas  Bells  '. 

Say,  shall  we  yield  Uiin,  ia  costly  d«\%tM)Q, 

Odois  of  Edtm  and  oSenngadiviaei' 
Gems  of  the  mountain  and  pearls  of  the  ocean, 
Myirh  from  the  foresC,  or  gold  liwa  the  mine? 

Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation; 

Vainly  with  gifts  would  His  favor  secure; 
Richer  by  far  b  the  heart's  adoiation; 

Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayets  of  the  poor. 

Bri^test  and  best  of  the  Sons  of  the  mormBg! 

Dawn  on  our  darkness  and  lend  us  thine  aid! 
Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 

Guide  where  oiir  Infant  Redeemer  is  laid! 

Reginald  Heba  [1733-181 


I  HEABD  the  bells  on  Christmas  Day 
Their  old,  familiar  carols  play, 

And  wild  and  sweet 

The  words  repeat 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men! 

id  come, 

Till,  ringing,  singing  on  its  way, 

The  worid  revolved  from  night  to  day, 

A  voice,  a  chime, 

A  chant  sublime 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men! 

Then  from  each  bladi,  accursed  mouth 
The  cannon  thundered  in  the  Smith, 

And  with  the  sound 

The  carob  drowned 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men! 


51  a  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

It  was  as  if  an  earthquake  rent 
The  heartli-gtanes  of  a  continent. 

And  made  forlorn 

The  households  bom 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men! 

And  in  despair  I  bowed  ray  head; 
"There  is  no  peace  on  earth,"  I  said, 

"  For  hate  is  strong, 

And  mocks  the  song 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  menl" 

Then  pealed  the  bcUs  more  loud  and  deep;  . 
"God  is  not  dead,  nor  doth  He  sleep!        , 

The  Wrong  shall  fail, 

The  Right  prevail, 
With  peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men!" 

Henry  Wadsworth  LengfdknB  I1S07-1883I 


The  Christ-child  lay  on  Mary's  lap, 

His  hair  was  like  a  light. 
(O  weary,  weary  were  the  world. 

But  here  is  all  aright.) 

The  Christ-child  lay  on  Mary's  breast, 

His  hair  was  like  a  star. 
(0  stern  and  cunning  are  the  kings, 

But  here  the  true  hearts  are.) 

The  Christ-child  lay  on  Mary's  heart. 

His  hair  was  like  a  fire. 
(O  weary,  weary  is  the  worid, 

But  here  the  world's  desire.) 

The  Christ-child  stood  at  Mary's  knee. 

His  hair  was  like  a  crown, 
And  all  the  flowers  looked  up  at  Him, 

And  all  the  stars  looked  down. 

CfOcrf  Keith  Cheslerbm  ti8»4- 


The  House  of  Christmas' 


There  fared  a.  mother  driven  foith 

Out  of  an  inn  to  roam; 

In  the  place  where  she  was  homeless 

All  men  aie  at  home. 

The  crazy  stable  close  at  hand. 

With  shaking  timber  and  shifting  sand, 

Grew  a  sUonger  thing  to  abide  and  stand. 

Than  the  square  stones  of  Rome. 

For  men  are  homeack  In  their  hones, 

And  Btraagera  under  the  sun, 

And  they  lay  theic  heads  in  a  foreign  land 

Whenever  the  day  is  done. 

Here  we  have  battle  and  blazing  eyes, 

And  chance  and  honor  and  high  sutprise;, 

But  our  bomcB  are  undes  miraculoua  skies 

Where  the  yule  tale  was  b^un. 

A  Child  in  a  foul  sbUile, 

Where  the  bents  feed  and  foam, 

Only  where  He  was  bctneteas 

Are  you  and  I  at  home; 

We  have  hands  that  fashion  and  beads  that  know. 

But  our-  heartfi  we  k»t— how  long  agol 

In  a  place  no  chart  nor  ship  can  show 

Under  the  sky's  dome. 

TTiis  world  is  wild  as  an  old  wves'  tale. 

And  strange  the  plain  things  are, 

The  earth  is  enough  and  the  air  is  enou^ 

For  our  wonder  and  OUr  war; 

But  our  rest  is  as  far  as  the  fire-drake  swings 

And  our  peace  is  put  in  impossible  things 

Where  clashed  and  thundered  unthinkable  wings 

Round  an  incredible  star. 

To  an  open  house  in  the  evening 
Home  shall  men  come, 


a!4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

To  an  older  place  than  Eden 

And  a.  taller  town  than  Rome. 

To  the  end  of  the  way  of  the  wandering  star, 

To  the  things  that  cannot  be  and  that  are, 

To  the  place  where  God  was  homeless 

And  all  men  are  at  home. 

Gilierl  Keith  Cheilerton  [1S74- 


These  is  heard  a  hymn  when  the  panes  are  dim, 

And  never  before  or  again. 
When  the  nights  are  strong  with  a  daiiiKS  Jong, 

And  the  dark  is  alive 'vrith  ra&i. 

Never  we  know  but  in  sleet  and  anow 
The  place  where  the  great  fires  are, 

That  the  midst  of  earth  is  a  raging  mirth, 
And  the  heart  of  the  earth  a  star. 

And  at  mght  we  win  to  the  andeot  hm, 
Where  the  Child  in  the  frost  b  furkd. 

We  follow  the  feet  where  all  muIs  meet. 
At  the  inn  at  the  end  of  the  world. 

The  gods  Ue  dead  ^ere  the  laaves  lie  red. 

For  the  flame  of  the  sun  is  flown; 
The  gods  lie  cold  where  the  lesvee  are  gold, 

And  a  Child  comes  forth  alone. 

Gilbert  Kaih  Cke^Utlim  [tSr4- 


Joseph,  mild  and  noble,  bent  above  the  straw: 
A  pale  girl,  a  frail  girl,  suffering  he  saw; 
"0  my  Love,  my  Mary,  my  bride,  I  pity  thee!" 
"Nay,  Dear,"  said  Mary,  "all  is  well  with  me!" 

"  Baby,  my  baby,  0  my  babe,"  she  sang. 

Suddenly  the  golden  night  all  with  musdc  tangd 


Gates  and  Doors  at 

Angels  leading  shepfaerds,  shepbnds  lending  sheep: 
The  silence  of  worship  broke  the  mother's  sleep. 
AH  the  meek  and  lowly  of  ail  the  world  were  there; 
Smiling,  she  showed  them  that  her  Child  was  fair, 

"Baby,  my  haby"  kisang  Him  she  said. 

Suddenly  a  flaming  star  through  the  heavens  sped. 

Three  dd  men  and  weary  knelt  them  side  by  side, 
The  world's  wealth  forBwearing,  majesty  and  pride; 
Worldly  might  and  wisdom  beroie  the  Babe  bent  low: 
Weeping,  maid  Mary  said,  "I  love  Him  so!" 

"Baby,  my  baby,"  and  the  Baby  slept. 

Suddenly  on  Calvary  all  the  olives  wept. 

Shaeiiuu  OShed  [1886- 


Skins  out  to  guide  the- Iropdfr's  feet 
To  you  across  Ike  snow. 

Then  was  a  courteous  hostler 
(He  is  in  Htavo)  to-night) 

fie  held  Our  Lady's  bridle 
And  helped  her  todigfat.  , 


ai6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

He  apnad  dean  straw  bcfote  bar    .' 
Whereon  she  might  lie  down. 

And  Jesus  Christ  has  given  him 
An  everlasting  crown. 

Unlock  the  door  tkk  attting 

And  kl  your  gale  swing  wide, 
Lei  all  who  ask  for  sktiler 

Come  speedily  inside. 
WktU  ^  your  yard  be  narraaS 

What  ^  yoiir  house  be  smaUt- 
There  is  a  Guest  is  coming 

WiU  glorify  it  aU. 

There  was  a  joyous  hostler 

Who  knelt  on  Christmas  mom 
Beside  the  radiEint  manger  ' 

Wherein  his  Lord  was  borp. 
His  heart  was  full  of  laughter, 

His  soul  was  full  of  bliss 
When  Jesus,  on  Hts  Mother's  lap, 

Gave  him  His  hand  to  kiss. 

Unbar  your  heart  this  evening 

And  keep  no  slravger  out. 
Take  from  your  soul's  great  porlat 

The  barrier  of  doubt. 
To  humble  folk  and  weary 

Give  hearty  welcoming. 
Your  breast  shall  he  to-morrow 

The  cradle  of  a  King. 

Joyce  Kilmer  |iS86- 

tHe  three  kings 

Three  Kings  came  riding  from  far  away, 

Melchior  and  Caspar  and  Bakasar; 
Three  Wise  Men  out  of  the  East  were  they, 
And  they  travelled  by  night  and  they  slept  by  day. 

For  their  guide  was  a  beautiful,  wonderful  star. 

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The  Three  Kings  2 

The  star  was  so  beauUfu],  large  and  clSar, 

That  all  the  other  stars  of  the  sky 
Became  a  white  mist  in  the  atmosphere; 
And  by  this  they  knew  that  the  cooitDg  was  near 

Of  the  Prince  foretold  in  the  prophecy. 

Three  caskets  they  bore  on  their  saddle-bows, 

Three  caskets  of  gold  with  golden  keys;  i 

Their  robes  were  of  crimson  silk,  with  rows 
Of  bells  and  pomegranates  and  furbelows, 
Their  turbans  like  blossoming  almond- trees. 

And  so  the  Three  Kings  rode  into  the  West, 

Through  the  dusk  of  night,  over  hill  and  <lell, 
And  sometimes  they  nodded  with  beard  on  breast, 
And  sometimes  talked,  as  they  paused  to  rest, 
With  the  people  they  met  at  some  wayside  well.' 

"Of  the  child  that  is  born,"  said  fialtasar, 

"  Good  people,  I  pray  you,  tell  us  the  news. 
For  we  in  the  East  have  seen  hb  star. 
And  have  ridden  fast,  and  have  ridden  far, 
To  find  and  worship  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

And  the  people  answered,  "You  ask  in  vain; 

We  know  of  no  king  but  Herod  the  Greatl"    . 
Tbey  thought  the  Wise  Men  were  men  ittsaoe. 
As  they  spurred  their  horses  across  the  platQ 

Like  riders  in  haste,  and  who  cannot  wait. 

And  when  they  came  to  Jerusalem, 
Herod  the  Great,  who  had  hcanl  this  thing. 

Sent  for  the  Wise  Men  and  questioned  them; 

And  said,  "Go  down  unto  Bethlehem. 
And  bring  me  tidings  of  this  new  king." 

So  they  rode  away,  and  the  star  stood  si  ill. 

Hie  only  one  in  the  gra,y  of  morn ; 
Yes,  it  stopped,~it  stood  still  of  its  own  free  will, 
Right  over  Bethlehem  on  the  hill. 

The  city  of  David,  where  Christ  wasboni. 


4i8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  the  Three  Kings  rode  through  the  gat£  and  the  guard, 
Through  the  silent  street,  till  theii  horses  tiuned 

And  neighed  as  they  entered  the  great  inu-yafd; 

But  the  windows  were  closed,  and  the  doors  were  barred, 
And  only  a  tight  in  the  st^le  burned. 

And  cradled  there  in  the  scented  hay, 
In  the  air  made  sweet  by  the  breath  of  kine, 

The  little  child  in  the  manger  lay, 

The  Child  that  would  be  King  one  day 
Of  a  kingdom  not  human,  but  divine. 


They  laid  their  offerings  at  his  feet: 

The  gold  was  their  tribute  to  a  King; 
The  frankincense,  with  its  odor  sweet, 
Was  for  the  Priest,  the  Paraclete; 

The  myrrh  for  the  body's  burying. 

And  the  mother  wondered  and  bowed  her  head, 

And  sat  as  still  as  a  statue  of  stone; 
Her  heart  was  troubled  yet  comforted, 
Rememhcnng  what  the  Angel  had  said 

Of  an  endless  reign  and  of  David's  throne. 

Then  the  Kings  rode  out  of  the  dty  gate, 

With  a  clatter  of  hoofs  in  proud  array; 
But  they  went  not  back  to  Herod  the  Great, 
For  they  knew  his  malice  and  feared  his  hate, 

And  returned  to  their  homes  by  another  way. 

Hewy  WadswoTlk  Longfdlow  [[807-1882! 

There  hath  come  bo  host  to  see  Thee,' 
Baby  dear, 

Bearded  men  with  eyes  of  flame 
And  Ups  ol  fear, 

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A  Child's  Song  of  Christmas        119 

For  the  heavens,  they  say,  have  brohtD 

Into  blinding  gulfs  of  giory. 

And  the  Lord,  tbcy  say,  hath  spoken 

In  a  little  irondious  stoiy, 

Baby  dear. 

There  have  come  three  kings  to  greet  Thee, 

Baby  dear, 

Crowned  with  gold,  iind  clad  In  putple, , 

They  draw  near. 

They  have  brought  rare  silks  to  bind  Thee, 

At  Thy  feet,  behold,  they  spread  them, 

From  their  thrones  they  sprang  to  find  Thee, 

And  a  blazing  star  hath  led  them, 

Baby  dear. 

I  have  neither  jade  nor  ja^>er. 

Baby  dear. 

Thou  art  all  my  hope  and  glory, 

And  my  fear. 

Yet  for  all  the  gems  that  strew  Thee, 

And  the  costly  gowns  that  fold  Thee, 

Yea,  though  all  the  world  should  woo  Thee, 

Thou  art  mine — and  fast  I  hold  Thee, 

Baby  dear. 

Henry  Haumrth  Bashford  [iSSo- 

My  counterpane  b  soft  as  silk. 
My  blankets  wbite  as  creamy  milk. 

"ITie  hay  was  soft  to  Him,  I  know, 

Out  little  Lord  of  long  ago. 
Above  the  roofs  the  pigeons  fly 
In  silver  wheels  across  the  sky. 

The  stable-doves  ihey  cooed  to  them, 

Mary  and  Christ  in  Bethlehem. 
Bright  shinea  the  sun  across  the  drifts, 
And  blight  upon  my  Christinas  gifts. 

They  brought  Hnn  incrase,  myrrh,  and  gold. 

Our  little  Lord  who  lived  of  old. 


210  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Oh,  soft  and  clear  our  mother  aingi 

Of  Christinas  joys  and  Chnstmas  ihiogs, 

God's  holy  angels  sang  to  them, 

Mary  and  Christ  in  Bethlehem. 

Our  hearts  they  hold  all  Christmas  dear, 

And  earth  seems  sweet  and  heaven  seems  near, 

Oh,  heaven  was  in  His  sight,  I  know, 

That  little  Child  of  long  ago. 

Marjorif  £.  C.  PkkthaU  [1883- 


Father  calls  me  William,  sister  calls  me  Will, 

Mother  calls  me  Willie,  but  the  fellers  call  me  Bill! 

Mighty  glad  I  ain't  a  girl — ruther  be  a  boy. 

Without  them  sashes,  curls,  an'  things  that's  worn   by 

Love  to  chawnk  green  apples  an'  go  swimmin'  In  the  lake — 
Hate  to  take  the  castor-ile  they  give  for  bdly-achS! 
'Most  all  the  time,  the  whole  year  round,  there  ain't  no 

Hies  on  me, 
But  jest  'fore  Christmas  I'm  as  good  as  I  kin  be! 

Got  a  yetler  dog  named  Sport,  sick  him  on  the  cat; 
First  thing  she  knows  she  doesn't  know  where  she  is  at! 
Got  a  clipper  sled,  an'  when  us  kids  goes  out  to  slide, 
'Long  comes  the  groceiy  cart,  an'  we  all  hook  aride! 
But  sometimes  when  the  grocery  man  is  worrited  an'  cross. 
He  reaches  at  us  with  his  whip,  an'  larrups  up  his  hoss. 
An' thenllaff  an'  holler,  "Oh,  ye  never  teched  me/" 
But  jest  'fore  Christmas  I'm  as  good  as  I  kin  be! 

Gran'ma  says  she  hopes  that  when  I  git  to  be  a  man, 

I'll  be  a  missionarer  like  her  oldest  brother,  Dan, 

As  was  et  up  by  the  cannibuls  that  lives  in  Ceylon's  Isle, 

Where  every  psospeck  pteasea,  an'  only  man  is  vile! 

But  gran'ma  she  has  never  been  to  see  a  Wild  W«st  show. 

Nor  read  the  Life  of  Daniel  Bo^ne,  or  else  I  guess  she'd 


A  Visit  from  St.  Nicholas  221 

rbat  Buff'lo  Bill  and  cow-boys  is  good  enough  for  me! 
Excrp'  jest  'fore  Christmas,  when  I'm  good  as  I  kin  be! 

And  then  old  Sport  he  hangs  around,  so  solemn-like  an'  still, 
His  eyes  they  keep  a-sayin':  "What's  the  matter,  little 

Hie  old  cat  sneaks  down  ofF  her  perch  an'  wonders  what's 

Of  tber  that  used  to  make  things  hum! 

But  la  so  earnestly  to  biz, 

That  IT  'How  improved  our  Willie  is!" 

But  fat  ^hisseU,  suspicions  me 

Alien  j  n  as  good  as  I  kin  bel 

Fm  Christmas,  with  its  lots  an'  lots  of  candies,  cakes  an' 

Was  made,  they  say,  for  proper  kids  an'  not  for  naughty 

So  wash  yer  fac«  an'  bresh  yer  hair,  an'  mind  yer  p's  an'  q's. 
An'  don't  bust  out  yer  pantaloons,  an'  dont  wear  out  yer 

Say  "Yessum"  to  the  ladies,  an'  "Vessur"  td  themen^ 
An'  when  they's  company,  don't  pass  yer  plate  for  pie 

Bat.  thininng  of  the  things  yer'd  like  to  see  upon  that  tree, 
Jest  'fore  Christmas  be  as  good  as  yer  kin  bet 

Eutene  Field  [itstr-iS^s] 




night  befo 

re  Chrislmas,  when  ail  thro 




ot  even  a  mouse; 

The  SI 

he  chimney  wirti  care 


oon  would  be  there; 


snug  in  their  beds, 


danced  in  their  heads 


and  I  in  my  cap, 


r  a  long  winter's  nap, 


irose  such  a  clatter, 


what  was  the  matter. 


212  Poems  of  Youth  atid  Age 

Away  to  the  window  I  flew  like  a  flash, 

Tore  open  the  shutters  and  threw  up  the  sash. 

The  moon  bn  the  breast  of  the  new-fallen  snow 

Gave  the  lustre  of  mid-day  to  objects  below, 

When,  what  to  my  wondering  eyes  should  appear, 

But  a  miniature  sleigh,  and  eight  tiny  reindeer, 

With  a  little  old  driver,  so  lively  and  quick, 

I  knew  in  a  moment  it  must  be  St.  Nick. 

More  rapid  than  eagles  his  coursers  they  came, 

And  be  whistled,  and  shouted,  and  called  them  by  name; 

"Now,  Dasher!  now.  Dancer.'  now,  Prancer  and  Vixenl 

On,  Comet  I  on  Cupid/  on,  Donder  and  BlUsen! 

To  the  top  of  the  porch!  to  the  top  of  the  wall! 

Now  dash  awayl  dash  away!  dash  away  all!" 

As  dry  leaves  that  before  the  wild  hurricane  fly. 

When  they  meet  with  an  obstacle,  mount  ta  the  sky, 

So  up  to  the  house-top  the  coursers  they  flew, 

With  the  sleigh  full  of  toys,  and  St.  Nicholas  too. 

And  thco,  in  a  twinkling,  I  heard  on  the  roof 

The  pra.ndng  and  pawing  of  each  little  hoof. 

As  I  drew  in  my  head,  an<!  was  turning  around, 

Down  the  chimney  St.  Nicholas  cajne  with  a  bound: 

He  was  dressed  all  in  fur,  from  his  head  to  his  foot, 

Aod  his  clothes  were  all  tarnished  with  ashes  and  soot; 

A  bundle  of  toys  he  had  flung  oa  his  back, 

And  he  looked  like  a  peddler  just  opening  his  pack. 

His  eyes — how  they  twinkled!  his  dimples  how  merry! 

His  cheeks  were  like  roses,  his  nose  like  a  cherry! 

His  droU  little  mouth  was  drawn  up  like  a  bow, 

And  the  beard  of  his  chin  was  as  white  as  the  snow; 

The  stump  of  a  pipe  he  held  tight  in  his  teeth, 

And  the  smoke  it  encircled  his  head  like  a  wreath; 

He  had  a  broad  face  and  a  little  round  beily, 

That  shook,  when  he  lai^c<l,  like  a  bowlful  of  jelly. 

He  was  chubby  and  plump,  a  right  jolly  old  elf, 

And  I  laughed  when  I  saw  him,  in  spite  of  myself; 

A  wink  of  his  eye  and  a  tnist  of  his  head. 

Soon  gave  me  to  know  I  had  nothing  to  dread;  ■ 

He  spoke  not  a  word,  but  went  straight  to  his  work, 

And  filled  aU  the  stockings;  then  turned  with  a  jerk. 


On  the  Mornii^  of  Christ's  Nativity    223  . 

And  laying  his  fingei  aside  of  his  nose. 

And  giving  a.  nod,  up  the  chimney  he  rose; 

He  sprang  U>  his  slei^,  to  his  team  gave  a  whisUe, 

And  away  they  all  flew  like  the  down  of  a  thistle. 

But  I  heard  him  esclaim,  ere  be  drove  out  of  sight, 

"Happy  Christmas  to  ait,  and  to  all  a  good-itigkl." 

Cttnunt  Chrkt  Moifre  {i779~iS6jl 


CoHE,  bdng  with  a  noise. 

My  meny,  meny  boys, 
ybe  Chiistmas  log  to  the  firing; 

While  my  good  dame,  she 

Bids  ye  all  be  free; 
And  drink  to  your  hearts' desiiing. 

With  the  last  year 's  brand 

Light  the  new  block,  axul 
For  good  success  in  his  spendiDg, 

On  your  psaltries  play, 

That  sweet  luck  may 
CotDC  while  the  log  is  artending. 

Dnuk  now  the  strong  beer, 

Cut  the  white  loaf  here, 
The  while  the  meat  is  a^shredding; 

For  the  mre  mince-pie 

And  the  plums  stand  by  ' 
To  fill  the  paste  that's  a-kneading. 

Robert  Htrrick  Iisgi-i6T4l 


This  is  the  month,  and  this  the  Ijappy  morn 
Wherein  the  Son  of  Heaven's  Eternal  King, 
Of  wedded  maid  and  virgin  mother  born, 
Our  great  redemption  from  above  did  brings 


124.  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age' 

For  so  the  holy  sages  once  did  sing 

That  he  our  deadly  foHeiC  should  release, 

And  with  his  Father  work  us  a  perpetual  peace. 

That  gtorious  Fonn,  that  Li^t  unsufferable, 

And  that  far-beaming  blaze  of  Majesty 

Wherewith  he  wont  at  Heaven's  high  coundl-ta 

To  sit  the  midst  of  Trinal  Unity, 

He  laid  aside;  and,  here  with  us  to  be, 

Forsook  the  courts  of  everlasting  day, 

And  chose  with  us  a  darksome  house  of  mortal  day. 

Say,  Heavenly  Muse,  shall  not  thy  sacred  vein 

A£ford  a  present  to  the  Infant  God? 

Hast  thou  no  verse,  no  hymn,  or  solemn  strain 

To  welcome  him  to  this  his  new  abode, 

Now  while  the  heaven,  by  the  sun's  team  untrod. 

Hath  took  no  print  of  the  approaching  light, 

And  all  the  spangled  host  keep  watch  in  squadrons  bright? 

See  how  from  far,  upon  the  eastern  road, 

The  star-led  wizards  haste  with  odors  sweett 

0  run,  prevent  them  with  thy  humble  ode 

And  lay  it  lowly  at  bis  blessed  feet; 

Have  thou  the  honor  first  thy  Lord  to  greet. 

And  join  thy  voice  unto  the  angel  choir 

From  out  his  secret  altar  toudied  with  hallowed  fire, 


It  was  the  winter  wild 

While  the  heaven-born  Child 

All  meanly  wrapped  in  the  rude  manger  lies; 

Nature  in  awe  to  Him 

Had  doSed  her  gaudy  trim. 

With  her  great  Master  so  to  sympathize: 

It  was  no  season  then  for  her 

To  wanton  wilh  the  sun,  her  lusty  paramour. 

OtJy  with  speeches  fair 
She  woos  the  gentle  air 


On  the  Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity    22^ 

To  hide  her  guilty  front  with  iniK>cent  snow; 

And  on  her  naked  shame,  1 

Pollute  with  sinful  blame, 

The  saintly  veil  of  maiden  white  to  throw; 

Confounded,  that  her  Maker's  eyes 

Should  look  so  near  upon  hei  foul  deformities. 

But  he,  ber  fears  to  cease, 

Seat  down  the  meek-eyed  Peace; 

She,  crowned  with  olive  green,  came  soMy  diding 

Down  through  the  turning  sphere. 

His  ready  harbinger, 

With  turtle  wing  and  amorous  clouds  dividing; 

»  and  land. 

The  trumpet  spake  not  to  the  armdd  throng; 

And  kings  sat  still  with  awful  eye, 

As  if  they  surely  knew  their  sovereign  Lord  was  by.  - 

But  peaceful  was  the  night 

Wherein  the  Prince  of  Light 

His  reign  of  peace  upon  the  earth  began: 

The  winds,  with  wonder  whist, 

Smoothly  the  waters  kissed. 

Whispering  new  joys  to  the  mild  ocein^ 

Who  now  hath  quite  forgot  to  rave.  ' 

While  birds  of  calm  sit  brooding  on  the  charniM  wave. 

The  stars,  with  deep  amaze, 

Stand  fixed  in  steadfast  gaze, 

Bending  one  way  their  precious  influence; 

And  will  not  take  their  flight 

For  all  the  morning  light, 

Or  Lucifer  that  often  warned  them  thence; 

But  in  their  glimmering  orbs  did  glow 

Until  thdr  Lord  himself  bespake,  and  bid  them  go. 

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216  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age     , 

And  though  the  shady  gloom 

Had  given  day  her  room, 

The  sun  himself  withheld  his  wonted  speed, 

And  hid  his  head  for  shame, 

As  his  inferior  flame 

The  new-enlightened  world  no  more  should  need; 

He  saw  a  greater  Sun  appear 

Than  his  bright  throne,  or  burning  axletree,  could  betSj 

The  shepherds  on  the  lawn 

Or  ere  the  point  of  dawn 

Sat  simply  chatting  in  a  rustic  row; 

Full  little  thought  they  then 

TTiat  the  mighty  Pan 

Was  kindly  come  to  live  with  them  below; 

Perhaps  their  loves,  or  else  their  sheep. 

Was  all  that  did  their  silly  thoughts  so  busy  keep. 

When  such  music  sweet 

Their  hearts  and  eais  did  greet 

As  never  was  by  mortal  finger  strook — 

Divinely-warbled  voice 

Answering  the  stringed  omse, 

As  all  their  souls  in  blissful  rapture  took: 

The  air,  such  pleasure  loth  to  lose. 

With  thousand  echoes  still  prolongs  each  heavenly  dose. 

Nature,  that  heard  such  sound 

Beneath  the  hollow  round 

Of  Cynthia's  seat  the  airy  region  thrilling. 

Now  was  almost  won 

To  think  her  part  was  done, 

And  that  her  reign  had  here  its  last  fulfilling; 

She  knew  such  harmony  alone 

Could  hold  all  heaven  and  earth  in  happier  union. 

At  last  surrounds  their  sight 

A  globe  of  circular  light 

That  with  long  beams  the  shamefaced  night  arrayed; 

The  helmdd  Cherubim 

And  sworded  Seraphim 

Are  seen  in  ghttcring  ranks  with  wings  displayed. 

p:hy  Google 

On  the  Morning  of,  Christ's  Nativity    227 

Harpmg  in  loud  and  schema  choir  ' 

With  unexpressive  notes,  to  Heaven  'a  neip-bom  Heir. 

Such  music  (as  'tis  said) 

Before  was  never  made 

But  when  of  old  the  sons  of  morning  sung; 

While  the  Creator  great 

His  constellations  set 

And  the  well-balanced  worid  on  hinges  hung; 

And  cast  the  daric  foundations  deep,  • 

And  bid  the  weltering  waves  their  oozy  dmnnd  kOBp. 

Ring  out,  ye  crystal  spheres! 

Once  bless  our  human  ears, 

If  ye  have  power  to  touch  our  seofies  so; 

Aad  let  your  silver  chime 

Move  in  melodious  time; 

And  let  the  bass  of  Heaven 's  deq>  organ  blow; 

And  with  your  ninefold  hannony 

Make  up  full  consort  to  the  angeUc  syiqphony. 

For  if  1 





And  Hell  itself  will  pass  away. 

And  leave  her  dolorous  mansions  to  the  peering  day. 

Yea,  Truth  and  Justice  then 

Will  down  return  to  men, 

Oibed  in  a  rainbow;  and,  like  fdcvies  wearing, 

Uercy  will  ait  between 

Throned  in  celestial  sheen, 

With  radiant  feet  the  tissued  clouds  down  steering; 

And  Heaven,  as  at  some  festival, 

Will  open  wide  the  gates  of  her  high  palace  haB. 

But  wisest  Fate  says  No; 
This  must  not  yet  be  so; 

p:hy  Google 

228  Poelhs  of  Youth  and  Age  ■'■  ■ 

The  Babe  yet  lies  in  smiHng  infancy 

That  on  the  bitter  cross  I '   . . 

Must  redeem  our  loss; 

So  both  himself  and  us  to  glorify; 

Vet  first,  to  those  ychained  in  sleep 

The  wakeful  trump  of  doom  must  thunder  through   the 

With  such  a  horrid  clang 

As  on  Mount  Sinai  raog  -  ' 

While  the  red  fiie  and  smouldering  clouds  outbake: 

The  a-ghd  Earth  aghast 

With  terror  of  that  blast  >■ 

Shall  from  the  surface  to  the  centre  shake, 

When,  at  the  world's  last  sessiAn, 

The  dreadful  Judge  in  middle  air  shall  spread  His  throntt 

And  then  at  kst  our  bliss 

Full  and  perfect  is, 

But  now  begins;  f^r  from  this  happy  day 

The  old  Dragon  under  ground, 

In  straiter  limits  bound,  i 

Not  half  so  far  casts  his  usurped  sway; 

And,  wroth  to  sec  his  kingdom  fail. 

Swinges  the  scaly  horror  of  his  folded  tail. 

The  oracles  are  dumb; 

No  voice  or  hideous  hum 

Runs  through  the  arched  roof  in  words  deceiving. 

Apollo  from  bis  shrine 

Can  no  more  divine. 

With  hollow  shriek  the  steep  of  EWphoa  leaving: 

No  nightly  trance  or  breathed  spell 

Inspires  the  palc-cyed  priest  from  the  prophetic  cell. 

The  lonely  mountains  o'er  .  • 

And  the  resoundii^  shore 

A  voice  of  weeping  heard,  and  loud  lament; 

From  haunted  spring  and  dale 

Edged  with  poplar  pale 

The  parting  Genius  is  with  sighing  sent: 


On  the  Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity    129 

With  flower-inwoven  tresses  tom 

The  Nymphs  in  twilight  shade  of  tangled  thickets  mourn. 

In  consecrated  earth 

And  on  the  holy  hearth  ' 

The  Lars  and  Lemures  moan  with  midnight  plaint  { 

In  urns,  and  altars  round 

A  drear  and  dying  sound 

Affrights  the  Flamens  at  their  service  quaint; 

And  the  chill  marble  seenw  to  sweat, 

While  each  peculiar  Power  foregoes  his  wonted  seat. 

Peor  and  Baalim 

Forsake  their  temples  dim, 

With  ttat  twice-l»Uered  god  of  Palestine; 

And  moon&l  Ash  ta  roth 

Heaven's  queen  and  mother  both. 

Now  sits  not  girt  with  tapers'  hcdy  shioe; 

The  Lybic  Hwmoon  shrinks  his  hom: 

In  vain  the  Tyrian  maids  thdr  wounded  Tbammuz  mouin. 

Indi  t; 

Isis,  ste. 

Nor  is  Osiris  seen 

Id  Mempbian  grove,  or  green, 

Trampling  the  unshowered  grass  with  lowii^  loud: 

Nor  can  he  be  at  rest 

Within  his  sacred  chest; 

Naught  but  profoundest  Hell  can  be  his  shroud; 

In  vain  with  timbreUed  anthems  dark 

The  sable  stolM  sorcerers  bear  his  worshiped  ark. 

He  feels  from  Juda's  land 
The  dreaded  Infant's  hand; 


230    .       Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  rays  of  Bethlehem  blind  hid  dusky  eyen; 

Npr  all  the  gods  beside  / 

Longer  dare  abide 

Nor  Typbon  huge  ending  in  snaky  tvioe; 

Our  Babe,  to  show  his  Godhead  true, 

Can  in  His  swaddling  bands  contrd  the  danndd  crcT, 

So,  when  the  sun  in  bed 

Curtained  with  cloudy  red 

Pillows  his  chin  upon  an  orient  wave, 

The  floduBg  shadows  pale 

Troop  to  the  infernal  jail, 

Each  fettered  ghost  sUps  to  his  several  grave: 

And  the  yellow-skirted  fays 

Ply  after  the  night-steeds,  leaving  their  moon-lovetf  tna^e. 

But  see!  the  Virgin  blest 

Hath  laid  her  Babe  to  rest; 

Time  is,  our  tedious  song  should  here  have  flndlng: 

Heaven 's  youngest  teem*d  Star 

Hath  fixed  her  polished  car, 

Her  sleeping  Lord  with  hand-maid  lamp  attending: 

And  all  about  the  courtly  stable 

Bright-harnessed  Angels  sit  in  order  serviceable. 

John  MQtan  |i6o8-i6t41 




Ik  summer,  when  the  gnas  ia  thick,  it  methei  hu&  fhe  time. 
She  shows  me  with  her  pencil  how  a  poet  makes  a  rhyme, 
And  often  she  is  sweet  enough  to  choose  a  leafy  nook, 
ftliere  I  cuddle  up  so  closely  when  she  reads  the  Fairy- 

In  winter,  when  the  corn's  asleep,  and  birds  are  not  in 

And  crocuses  and  violets  have  been  away  too  long, 
Dear  mother  puts  her  thimble  by  in  answer  to  my  look. 
And  I  cuddle  up  so  closely  when  she  reads  the  Fairy- 

And  mother  tells  the  servants  that  of  courM  they  must 

To  manage  all  the  household  things  from  four  till  half- 
past  five, 

For  we  really  cannot  suffer  intemipeion  from  the  cook. 

When  we  cuddle  dose  together  with  the  happy  Fairy- 

NerMan  Gals  1 1861- 


Fnot  "A  MidiumnHT-Nlibl'i  Dmm' 

Over  hill,  over  dale, 

Through  bush,  through  brier, 
Over  park,  over  pale, 
'Ouough  flood,  through  &re^ 

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232  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

J  do  waoder  everywhere, 
Swifter  than  the  mooDe's  sphere; 
And  I  serve  the  fairy  queen, 
To  dew  her  orbs  upon  the  green: 
The  cowslips  tall  her  pensioners  be; 
In  their  gold  coats  spots  you  see; 
Those  be  rubies,  fairy  favors, 
In  those  freckles  live  thdf  savors: 
I  must  go  seek  some  dew-drops  here, 
And  hang  a  pearl  in  every  cowslip's  car. 

From  "A  Midmmmer-Night'a  Dreuo" 

Yoa  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue, 

Thorny  hedgehogs,  be  not  seen; 
Newts  and  blind-worms,  do  no  wrong; 
Come  not  near  our  fairy  queen. 

Philomel,  with  melody, 

Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby; 

LuUa,  luUa,  lullaby;  lulla,  lulla,  lulkbyl 

Never  harm, 

Nor  spell  nor  charm, 
Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh; 
So,  good  night,  with  lullaby. 

Weaving  spiders,  come  not  here; 

Hence,  you  long-legged  spinneis,  hencel 
Beetles  black,  approach  not  near; 

Womi  nor  snail,  do  no  offence. 

Philomel,  with  melody, 
Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby; 
Lulla,  luUa,  luUaby;  lulla,  lulla,  lullaby! 

Never  harm. 

Nor  spell  nor  charm, 
Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh; 
So,  good-night,  with  tuUaby. 


Queen  Mab 

Fnbi  "Tbe  TemiKit" 

Come  unto  these  yellow  sands, 

And  then  take  hands: 
Court 'sied  when  you  have,  and  kissed,— 

The  wild  waves  whist,^ 
Foot  it  teatly  here  and  there; 
And,  sweet  sprites,  the  burthen  bear. 
Hark,  hark! 
Bow,  wow, 
The  watch-dogs  baik: 

Bow,  wow. 
Hark,  hark!    I  hear 
The  strain  of  slratting  chanticleer 
Cry,  Cock-a-diddle-dowl 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I: 

In  a  CDvrsUp's  bell  I  lie; 
There  I  couch  when  owls  do  cry. 
On  the  bat 's  back  I  do  fly 
After  summer  merrily: 

Merrily,  (nerrily,  shall  I  live  now, 
Under  the  blossom  that  hangs  on  the  bough. 
William  Stuxkespeare  [1564-1616J 

From  "The  SMyr" 

This  is  Mab,  the  Mtatresa-Fofiy, 

That  doth  nightly  rob  the  dairy 
And  can  hurt  or  help  the  churning, 
As  she  please  without  discerning. 

She  that  pinche*  country  wenches 
I(  they  rab  not  dean  their  benches, 

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234  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  wilh  sharper  nails  remembers 
When  they  rake  not  up  their  embers: 
But  if  so  they  chance  to  feast  her, 
In  a  shoe  she  drops  a  tester. 

This  is  she  that  empties  cradles, 
Takes  out  children,  puts  in  ladles: 
Trains  forth  old  wives  in  their  slumber 
With  a  sieve  the  holes  to  number; 
And  then  leads  them  from  her  burrows, 
Home  through  ponds  and  vi-ater-furrows. 

She  can  start  oar  Franklins'  dau^ter^, 
In  their  sleep,  with  shrieks  and  laughters; 
And  on  sweet  Saint  Anna's  night 
Feed  them  with  a  protmised  si^t. 
Some  of  husbands,  some  of  lovers, 
Which  an  empty  dream  discovers. 

Ben  Jonson  11573^-1637] 


Under  a  toadstool  crept  a  wee  Elf, 
Out  of  the  rain,  to  shelter  hiitisdf. 

Under  the  toadstool  sound  asleep, 
Sat  a  big  Dormouse  all  in  a  heap. 

Trembled  the  wee  Elf,  frightened,  and  yet 
Fearing  to  dy  away  lest  he  get  wet. 

To  tie  next  shelter— maybe  a  mile! 
Sudden  the  wee  Elf  smiled  a  wee  smile. 

Tugged  till  the  toadstool  toppled  in  two. 
Holding  it  over  him,  gnyly  be  flcnr. 

Soon  he  was  safe  home,  dry  as  could  be. 

Soon  woke  the  Dormouse — "Good  gracious  me! 

"Where  is  my  toadstool?"  loud  he  lamented. 
— And  that's  how  umbrellas  first  were  invented. 
outer  Ha^dlitAi- 


Fairy  Soiig  235 


Tluvias  Hayrtes  Bajly  [iTgr-iS 


FYom  "AmyDCu'' 

We  the  Fairies,  blithe  and  antic, 
Of  dimenaioDs  oot  gigantic, 
Though  the  moonshine  mostly  keep  us, 
Oft  is  orchards  frisk  and  peep  us. 

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236  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Stolen  sweets  are  always  sweeter, 
Stolen  tisses  much  completer, 
Stolen  looks  are  nice  in  chapels. 
Stolen,  stolen  be  your  apples. 

When  to  bed  the  world  is  bobbing.  , 

Then's  the  time  for  orchard-robbing;  , 
Vet  the  fruit  were  scarce  worth  peeling 
Were  it  not  for  stealing,  stealing, 
Trarukled  by  IMgh  Hunt  from  the  Latin  of  Thoma^  Randdpk 


I  couE  from  woods  enchaunt^, 

Starlit  and  pixey-haunted, 
Where  'twixt  the  bracken  and  the  twes 
The  goblins  lie  and  take  their  ease; 

By  winter  moods  undaunted.  ,  -, 

There  down  the  golden  gravel 

The  laughing  rivers  travel;  ' 

Elves  wake  at  nights  and  whispct  low 
Between  the  bracken  and  the  snow 

Their  dreamings  to  unravel. 

Twisted  and  lank  and  hairy,  _ 

With  wanton  eyes  and  wary, 
They  stretch  and  chuckle  in  the  wind, 
For  one  has  found  a  mermaid  kind,  ' 

And  one  has  kissed  a  fairy.  ^ 

They  know  no  melancholy. 

But  fashion  crowns  of  holly. 

And  gather  sleep  within  the  brake 
To  deck  a  kingdom  when  they  wake, 

And  bless  the  dreamer's  folly. 

Ah!  would  that  I  might  follow 

The  servants  of  Apollo! 

But  it  is  sweet  to  heap  the  honre 
With  quiet  dreams  and  poppy-flowers, 

Down  in  the  pixies'  hollow. 

Richard  Middkloit  (i  Sj-igii] 

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<2ueen  Mab  ^37 


Shbdso  teail  O,  abed  do  tearl 
The  flower  will  bloom  another  year. 
We^  no  more!  0,  weep  do  morel 
YouDg  buds  sleep  in  the  root's  white  mn- 
Dry  your  eyes!  O,  dry  your  eyesi 
Foi  I  was  taught  is  Paradise 
"  To  ease  my  breast  o(  melodies, — 

Shed  no  tear. 

Overhead!  look  overhead! 
'MoTig  the  blossoms  wlute  and  red,— 
Look  up,  look  up!  I  flutter  now 
On  this  flush  pomegranate  bough. 
See  me!  'tis  this  silvery  biH 
Ever  cures  the  good  man 's  ill, — 
Shed  no  tear!  0,  shed  no  (eart 
The  flower  will  bloom  another  year. 
Adieu,  adieu — I  fly— adieu! 
I  vani^  in  the  heaven's  blue, — 

Adieu,  adieu  1 
Jokn  Keat*  {i»S-i8iil 


A  UTTLE  fairy  comes  at  night. 
Her  eyes  are  blue,  her  hair  is  brown, 

With  silver  spots  upon  her  wings, 

And  from  the  moon  she  flutters  down. 

She  has  a  little  silver  wand, 
And  when  a  good  child  goes  to  bed 

She  Ti-aves  her  hand  from  right  to  left. 
And  ni^es  a  circle  round  its  head. 

And  then  it  dreams  of  pleasant  tWngs, 
Of  fountains  filled  with  fairy  flsh, 

And  trees  that  bear  delicious  fruit, 
And  bow  their  brandies  at  a  wish: 

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238  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Of  arbors  filled  with  dainty  scents 
From  lovely  fioweis  that  never  fade; 

Bright  flies  that  ghtter  in  the  sun, 
And  glow-worms  shining  in  the  iliadfi: 

And  talking  birds  with  gifted  tonguei, 
For  singing  songs  and  telling  tales, 

And  pretty  dwarfs  to  show  the  way 
Through  fairy  hills  and  fairy  dafes. 

But  when  a  bad  child  goes  to  bed. 
From  left  to  right  she  weaves  her  rings. 

And  then  it  dreams  all  through  the  night 
Of  only  ugly  horrid  thin^! 

Then  lions  come  with  glaring  eyes, 
And  tigers  growl,  a  dreadful  OQise, 

And  ogres  draw  their  cruel  kiuve?. 
To  shed  the  blood  of  girls  and  boys. 

Then  stormy  waves  rush  on  to  dnmn, 
Or  raging  flames  come  scorching  round. 

Pierce  dragons  hover  in  the  air, 
And  serpents  crawl  along  the  ground. 

Then  wicked  children  wake  and  weep. 
And  wish  the  long  black  gloom  away; 

But  good  ones  love  the  dark,  and  find 
The  night  as  pleasant  as  the  day. 

Thomas  B«od  [1700-1845] 


"AuD  where  have  you  been,  my  Maiy, 
And  where  have  you  been  from  me?" 

"I've  been  to  the  top  of  the  Caldon-Low, 
The  midsummer  night  to  $ee!" 


The  Fidrie*  of  the  C8ldoi>-Low      239 

"And  what  did  you  sec,  my  Mary, 

All  up  on  the  Caldon-Low?" 
"I  saw  the  ^ad  sDnBhine  come  down. 

And  I  saw  the  merry  windi  blow." 

"And  what  did  you  hear,  my  Maiy, 

All  up  on  the  Caidoa-HiU?" 
"I  heard  the  dtops  of  the  water  made. 

And  the  ears  of  the  gieen  com  fill." 

"CMi,  tell  me  all,  my  Maiy — 
All — all  that  ever  you  know; 
For  you  must  have  seen  the  fames 
Last  night  on  thie  Caldoo-Lowl" 

"Then  take  me  on  your  knee,  mother, 
And  listen,  mother  of  mine: 
A  bundled  fairies  danced  last  night, 
And  the  harpers  they  were  nine. 

"And  their  harp-strings  rang  so  merrily 
To  their  dancing  feet  so  smalli 
But,  oh!  the  words  of  their  talking 
Were  mecrier  far  than  alll" 

"And  what  were  the  worda,  my  Mary, 
That  you  did  he&r  tbem  say?" 

"Ill  teQ  you  all,  my  mother. 
But  let  me  hive  my  way. 

"Some  of  them  played  with  the  water. 
And  rolled  it  down  the  hill; 
'And  this,'  they  said,  'shall  speedily  tun) 
The  poor  old  miller's  mill. 

"'For  there  has  been  no  water 
Ever  since  the  ficet  of  May; 
And  a  busy  qian'  wfU  the  millei;  be        .   / 
At  the  dftwung  4f  Ibe  dayl 

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440  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

"  'Oh!  the  miller,  how  be  will  laugh, 
When  he  sees  the  mill-dain  risel 
The  jolly  old  miller,  how  be  will  laugh, 
Till  the  tears  &U  both  his  eyes! ' 

"And  some  they  seized  the  little  winds. 
That  sounded  over  the  hill, 
And  each  put  a  horn  into  his  mouth. 
And  blew  both  loud  and  shrill: 

"  'And  there,'  said  they,  'the  merry  winda  go 
Away  from  every  horn; 
And  they  shall  clear  the  mildew  dank 
From  the  blind  old  widow's  com: 

"  'Oh,  the  poor  blind  widow — 

Though  she  has  been  blind  so  bng, 
She'll  be  merry  enough  when  the  mildew's  gone, 
And  the  com  stands  tall  and  strong!' 

"And  some  they  brou^t  the  brown  linseed 
And  flung  it  down  the  Low; 
'And  this,'  said  they, '  by  the  sunrise 
In  the  weaver's  croft  shall  growl 

"  'Oh,  the  poor  lame  weaver! 
How  will  he  laugh  outright 
When  he  sccr  his  dwindling  flax-field 
All  (uU  of  flowers  by  night! ' 

"And  then  outspoke  a  brownie, 
With  a  long  beard  on  his  chin: 
'I  have  spun  up  all  the  tow,'  said  he, 
'And  I  want  some  more  to  spin. 

"  'I've  spun  a  piece  of  hempen  doth 
And  I  want  to  spin  another — 
A  little  sheet  for  Mary's  bed, 
hnd  an  apron  for  her  motherl' 


The  Fairies  141 

"  With  that  I  could  not  help  but  laugh, 
And  I  lauKbed  out  loud  and  free; 
And  then  on  tbe  top  of  the  Caldoa-Low 
There  was  no  one  left  but  rae. 

"And  all  OD  the  top  of  the  Caldon-Low 
The  mists  were  cold  aod  gray, 
And  nothing  I  saw  but  (he  mossy  stones 
That  round  about  me  lay. 

"But,  coming  down  from  the  hill<top, 
I  heard,  afar  below, 
How  busy  the  jolly  miller  was, 
And  how  meny  the  wheel  did  gol 

"And  I  peeped  into  the  widow's  field. 
And,  sure  enough,  was  seen 
The  yellow  ears  of  the  mildewed  com 
All  standing  stout  and  green. 

"And  down  the  weaver's  croft  I  stole, 
To  see  if  the  flax  Were  sprung; 
And  1  met  the  weaver  at  his  gate 
With  the  good  news  on  his  tonguel 

"Now,  this  is  aU  I  heard,  mother. 
And  all  that  I  did  see; 
So,  prithee,  make  my  bed,  mother. 
For  I'm  tired  as  I  can  bel " 

Mary  ffou^l  [i7qi)-tSSSJ 


Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen. 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men; 
Wee  folk,  good  folk, 

Trooping  all  together; 
Green  jacket,  red  cap. 

And  white  owl's  featherl 

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1^2  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Down  along  the  tocky  ahoie 

Some  make  their  home. 
They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide-foam; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  mountain  l^e, 
With  frc^  for  their  watch-dogs, 

All  night  awake. 

High  on  the  hill-top 

The  old  King  sits; 
He  is  now  so  oid  and  gray 

He's  nigh  lost  his  wits. 
With  a  bridge  of  white  mist 

Columbkill  he  crosses, 
On  his  stately  journeys 

From  Slieveleague  to  Rosses; 
Or  going  up  with  musk 

On  cold  starry  nights 
To  sup  with  the  Queen 

Of  the  gay  Northern  Lights. 

They  stole  little  Bridget 

For  seven  years  long; 
When  she  came  down  again 

Her  friends  were  all  gone. 
They  took  her  lightly  back, 

Between  the  night  and  morrow, 
"ITiey  thought  that  she  was  fast  asleep. 

But  she  was  dead  with  sorrow. 
They  have  kept  her  ever  since 

Deep  within  the  lake, 
On  a  bed  of  flag-leaves, 

Watching  till  she  wake. 

By  the  craggy  hill-flide. 

Through  the  mosses  bare. 
They  have  planted  thorn-trees 

For  pJesGure  hrac  and  there. 

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TUe  Fiiry  Thrall  J43 

If  any  man  so  Hgrj^^ 

Aa  dig  iJksi  tip  ia  s^te. 
He  ^uil  fiad  tW  shaipest  thorns      - 

Id  his  bed  at  night. 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen. 
We  daren't  go  a-huniing 

For  fear  of  little  men; 
Wee  folk,  good  folk. 

Trooping  ail  together; 
Green  jacket,  red  cap. 

And  white  owl's  fealherl 

WiUiam  AlHnghavi  [i8i4'>S8(i] 


On  gossamer  nights  when  the  m«wn  is  low, 

And  stais  in  the  mist  ore  hiding, 
Over  the  hill  where  the  fosglovea  grow 
You  may  see  the  fairies  riding. 
KUngl  KhtDgl  Kling! 
Their  stirrups  aad  their  bridles  ring, 
And  their  horns  arc  loud  and  their  bugles  l>low, 
When  the  moon  is  low. 

Tley  sweep  through  (he  night  like  a  wbistliqg  wind. 

They  pass  and  have  left  no  traces; 
But  one  of  them  lingers  far  behind 
The  flight  of  the  fairy  faces. 

She  makes  no  moan,  ; 

She  sorrows  in  the  dark  alime. 
She  wails  for  the  love  of  human  kind, 
Like  a  whistling  wind. 

"Ahl  why  did  I  Doam  where  the  elfins  ride,  ,. 

Their  Simmering  steps  to  foUowP 
They  bore  me  far  frwn  my  loved  one's  side, , 

To  wander  o'er  hiU  a^ d  hoUow. 


l44  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Kling!  RJang!  Kling! 

Their  stirrups  and  their  bridles  ring. 
But  my  heart  is  cold  in  the  cdd  ni^t-tide, 
Where  the  elfins  ride." 

Mary  C.  C.  Byron  |i86i- 


Farewell,  rewards  and  fairies! 

Good  housewives  now  may  say, 
For  now  foul  sluts  in  dairies 

Do  fare  as  well  as  they. 
And  though  they  sweep  their  hearths  no  lei 

Than  maids  were  wont  to  do. 
Yet  who  of  late,  for  cleanliness, 

Finds  sixpence  in  ber  shoe? 

Lament,  lament,  old  abbeys. 

The  fairies'  lost  command  1 
They  did  but  change  priests'  babies, 

But  some  have  changed  your  land; 
And  all  your  children  sprung  from  thence. 

Are  now  grown  Puritanes; 
Who  live  as  changelings  ever  ^nce. 

For  love  of  your  demains. 

At  morning  and  at  evening  Ixith 

You  merry  were  and  glad ; 
So  little  care  of  sleep  or  sloth 

These  pretty  ladies  had; 
When  Tom  came  home  from  labor, 

Or  Ciss  to  milking  rose, 
Then  merrily  merrily  went  their  tabor 

And  nimbly  went  their  toes. 

Witness  those  rings  and  roundelays 

Of  theirs,  which  yet  remain. 
Were  footed  in  Queen  Mary's  days 

On  many  a  grassy  plain; 


The  Fairy  Folk  '345 

But  since  of  late,  ] 

And  later,  James  catne-in. 


34^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

They  love  to  visit  giiis  aad  boys     i 

To  see  bow  sweet  they,  deep, 
To  stand  beude  their  cosy  cots 

And  at  their  faces  peq>, 
For  in  the  whole  of  fairy-land  , 

They  have  no  finer  sight 
Than  little  children  sleeping  sound  . 

With  faces  rosy  bnght. 

On  tip-toe  crowding  round  tfadr  heids, 

When  bright  the  moonlight  beams. 
They  whi^r  Mttle  tender  words 

That  fill  their  minds  with  dreams; 
And  when  they  see  a  sunny  smile,  ■ 

With  lightest  finger  tips 
They  lay  a  hundred  kisses  sweet 

Upon  the  ruddy  hps. 

And  then  the  little  spotted  moths    ' 

Spread  out  their  crimson  w&gs, 
And  bear  away  the  fairy  crowd'     '  ' 

With  shaking  bridle  rings. 
Come,  baimies,  hide  in  daddy's  coat, 

Beade  the  fire  so  bright — 
Perhaps  the  little  fairy  folk 

Will  visit  you  to-night. 

Seben  Bird  [1S67- 


When  Mother  takes  the  Fany  Book 
And  we  curl  up  to  hear, 

'Tis  "All  aboard  for  Faiiylandl" 
Which  seems  to  be  so  near. 

For  soon  we  reach  the  pleasant  place 

Of  Once  Upon  a  Time, 
Where  birdies  sing  the  hour  of  dajJ, 

And  flowers  talk  in  rhyme;         ]    - 

Where  Bobby  is  a  velvet  Prince,       ]■ 
And  where  I  am  a  Que^a; 


Where  one  can  talk  nith  animals. 

And  m3k  about  unsceai 
Where  Little  People  live  in  nuts, 

And  ride  on  butterflies, 
And  wonders  kindly  come  to  pass 

Before  your  very  eyes; 

Where  candy  gnms  on  every  busb, 

And  playthings  on  the  trees, 
And  viators  pick  basket! uls 

As  often  as  they  please. 
It  is  the  nicest  time  of  day — 

Though  Bedtime  is  so  near, — 
When  Mother  takes  the  Fairy  Book 

And  we  curl  up  to  hear. 

Ahbie  FarmU  Brown  {iS 

The  white  goat  Amaryllis, 

She  wandered  at  her  will 
At  time  of  daffodillies 

Afar  and  up  the  hill: 
We  hunted  and  we  holloa 'd 

And  back  she  came  at  dawn, 
But  what  d'you  think  had  followed?— 

A  little,  pagan  Faun! 

His  face  was  like  a  berry, 

His  ears  were  high  and  pricked: 
Tip-lap — his  hoofs  came  merry 

As  up  the  path  he  clicked; 
A  junket  for  his  winning 

We  set  in  dairy  delf ; 
He  eat  it— peart  and  grinning 

As  Christian  as  yourself! 

He  stayed  abqiU  the  steading 

A  fortnight,  say,  ot  more; 
A  blanket  for  his  bedding 

We  spread  beside  the  dow; 


248  Poems  of  Youth   and   Age 

And  when  the  cocks  crowed  ciatirl^ 
Before  the  dawn  was  ripe, 

He'd  call  the  milkmaids  cheerly 
Upon  a  reedy  pipe! 

That  fortnight  of  his  staying 

The  work  went  smooth  as  alk: 
The  hens  were  all  in  laying, 

The  cows  were  all  in  milk ; 
And  then— and  then  one  morning 

The  maids  woke  up  at  day 
Without  his  oaten  warning.— 

And  found  he'd  gone  away. 

He  left  no  trace  behind  him; 

But  still  the  milkmaids  deem 
That  they,  perhaps,  may  find  him 

With  butter  and  with  cream: 
Beside  the  door  they  set  them 

In  bowl  and  golden  pat, 
But  no  one  comes  to  get  them— 

Unless,  maybe,  the  cat. 

The  white  goat  Amaryllis, 

She  wanders  at  her  will 
At  time  of  daffodillies, 

Away  up  Woolcombe  hill; 
She  stays  until  the  morrow, 

Then  back  she  cwnes  at  dawn; 
But  never — to  our  sorrow — 

The  little,  pagan  Faun. 

Palricli  R.  Ckaiwurs  [18 


I  MET  a  little  Elf-man,  once, 
Down  where  the  lilies  Mow. 

I  asked  him  why  he  was  so  small, 
And  why  he  didn't  grow. 

p:hy  Google 

The  Satyrs  and  the  Moon  249 

He  slightly  frowned,  and  with  his  eye 
He  looked  me  through  and  through. 

"I'm  quite  as  big  (or  me,"  said  he, 
"As  you  are  big  for  you." 

■John  Kendrick  Bangs  [1861- 


WmuN  the  wood  behind  the  hill 
The  moon  got  tangled  in  the  trees. 

Her  splendor  made  the  branches  thrill 
And  thrilled  the  breeze. 

The  satyrs  in  the  grotto  bent 

Their  heads  to  see  the  wondrous  aght. 
"  It  is  a  god  in  banishment 

That  stirs  the  night." 

The  little  satyr  looked  and  guessed: 

"It  is  an  apple  that  one  sees, 
Brought  from  that  garden  o(  the  West — 


"U  b  a  Cyclops'  glaring  eye." 
"A  temple  dome  from  Babylon." 

"A  Titan's  cup  of  ivory." 

The  tiny  ^tyr  jumped  for  Joy, 
And  kicked  his  hoofs  in  utmost  glee. 

"It  is  a  ivondrous  silver  toy- 
Bring  it  tomel" 

A  great  wind  whistled  through  the  blue 
And  caught  the  moon  and  tossed  it  high; 

A  bubble  of  pale  fire  it  flew 
Across  the  sky. 

The  satyrs  ga^)ed  and  looked  and  smiled, 
And  wagged  their  heads  from  sid«  to  side, 

Eiccpt  their  shaggy  little  child, 
Who  cried  and  cried. 

Htrbtrt  S.  Gtrmtn  [iS 




When  the  lessons  and  tAtia  are  all  ended. 
And  the  school  for  the  day  is  dismiised, 

The  little  ones  gather  around  me. 
To  bid  me  good  night  and  be  kissedi 

Oh,  the  Jittle  white  arms  that  encircle 
My  neck  in  their  tender  embrace! 

Oh,  the  smiles  that  are  halos  of  heaven, 
Shedding  sunshine  of  love  on  my  lace! 

And  when  they  are  gone,  I  sit  dreaming 

Of  my  childhood  too  lovely  to  last, — 
Of  joy  that  my  heart  will  remember, 

While  it  wakes  to  the  pulse  of  the  past, 
Ere  the  world  and  its  wickedness  made  me 

A  partner  of  sorrow  and  sin, 
When  the  glory  of  God  was  about  me, 

And  the  glory  of  gladness  within. 

All  toy  heajt  grows  as  weak  aa  a  woman's. 

And  the  fountain  of  feeling  will  flow. 
When  I  think  of  the  paths  steep  and  stony. 

Where  the  feet  of  the  dear  ones  must  go,— 
Of  the  mountains  of  sin  hanging  o'er  them, 

Of  the  tempest  of  fate  blowing  wild; — 
Oh,  there's  nothing  on  earth  half  so  holy 

As  the  innocent  heart  of  a  child! 

They  are  idds  of  hearts  and  of  households; 

They  are  angeb  of  God  in  disguise; 
His  sunlight  still  sleeps  in  their  tresses, 

His  ^ory  still  shines  in  their  eyes; 


The  Children 

Those  truants  from  home  and  from  heaven, — 
They  have  made  me  more  manly  and  mild; 

And  I  know  now  how  Jesus  could  liken 
The  kingdom  of  God  to  a  duld. 

I  ask  not  a  life  for  the  dear  cmes, 

AH  radiant,  as  others  have  dwie, 
But  that  life  may  have  just  enough  shadow 

To  temper  the  glare  of  the  sun;  ' 

I  would  pray  God  to  guard  them  from  evil, 

But  my  prayer  would  bound  back  to  myself;- 
Ab!  a  seraph  may  pray  for  a  sinner. 

But  a  sinner  must  pray  for  himself. 

To  traverse  its  threshold  no  more; 
Ah,  how  I  shall  sigh  for  the  dear  ones 

That  meet  me  each  mom  at  the  door! 
I  shall  miss  the  "good  nights"  and  the  kisses, 

And  the  gush  of  their  innocent  glee, 
The  group  on  the  green,  and  the  flowers 

That  are  brought  every  moming  iox  tue. 

I  shall  miss  them  at  mom  and  at  even. 

Their  song  in  the  school  and  the  street; 
I  shall  ndsB  the  low  hum  of  their  voices. 

And  the  tread  of  their  ddicate  feet.  ' 
When  the  lessons  of  life  are  all  ended. 

And  death  says:  "The  school  is  dismissedl" 
May  the  little  ones  gather  around  me, 

To  bid  ms  good  night  and  be  kissed! 

Charia  Monroe  Dickiiuon  [1841- 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Between  the  dark  and  the  daylight. 
When  the  night  is  beginnmg  to  lower, 

Comes  a  pause  in  the  day's  occupatioas. 
That  is  known  as  the  Children's  Hour. 

I  hear  in  the  chamber  above  me 

The  patter  ol  littJe  feet,  , 

The  sound  of  a  door  that  is  opened, 
And  voices  soft  and  sweet. 

From  my  study  I  see  in  the  lamplight,  ' 
Descending  the  broad  hall  stair, 

Grave  Alice,  and  laughing  AUegra, 
And  Edith  with  golden  hair. 

A  whisper,  and  then  a  silence: 
Yet  I  know  by  their  merry  eyes 

They  are  plotting  and  planning  together 
To  take  me  by  surprise. 

A  sudden  rush  from  the  stairway. 

A  sudden  raid  from  the  hall!  ' 

By  three  doors  left  unguarded 

They  enter  my  castle  walll 

They  climb  up  into  my  turret 
O'er  the  arms  and  back  of  my  chair; 

If  I  try  to  escape,  they  surround  me; 
They  seem  to  be  everywhere. 

They  almost  devour  me  with  kisses. 
Their  arms  about  me  entwine, 

Til!  I  think  of  the  Bishop  of  Bingen 
In  his  Mouse-Tower  on  the  Rhinel 

Do  you  think,  O  blue-eyed  banditti, 
Because  you  have  scaled  the  wall. 

Such  an  old  mustache  as  I  am 
Is  not  a-  match  for  you  all  I 


The  Desire 

I  have  you  fast  in  my.  Fortress, 
And  will  not  let  you  depart, 

But  put  you  down  into  the  dungeon 
In  the  round-tower  of  my  heart. 





Give  me  no  mansions  ivory  white 
Nor  palaces  of  pearl  and  gold ; 
Give  me  a  child  for  all  delight, 
Just  four  years  old. 


254  Poems  of  Youth,  and  Age 

Give  me  do  wings  of  rosy  shine 
Nor  snowy  raiment,  fold  on  fold, 
Give  me  a  little  boy  all  mine. 
Just  four  years  old. 

Give  me  no  gold  and  starry  crown 
Nor  harps,  nor  palm  branches  unrolled; 
Give  me  a  nestling  head  of  brovm. 

Just  four  years  old. 

Give  me  a  cheek  that's  like  the  peach, 
Two  arms  to  clasp  me  from  the  cold; 
And  all  my  heaven's  within  ray  reach, 

Just  four  years  old. 

All  the  bells  of  heaven  may  ring, 

One  thing  yet  there  is,  that  none, 
Hearing  ere  its  chime  be  done, 
Knows  not  well  the  sv.ectest  onei 
Heard  of  man  beneath  the  sun, 

Hoped  in  heaven  hereafter; 
Soft  and  strong  and  loud  and  light, 


Seven  Years  Old 

Very  sound  of  very  li^t, 
Heard  from  moming'a  rosiest  height, 
When  the  soul  of  all  ddigbt, 
Fills  a  chitd's  dear  Utu^tei. 

Golden  bells  of  welcome  rolled 
Never  forth  such  note,  nor  told 
Hours  so  blithe  in  tones  so  bold, 

burnt  hSjT-iQogI 

Seven  white  toses  on  one  Icee, 
Seven  white  loaves  of  blameless  leaven, 
Seven  white  sails  on  one  soft  sea, 
Seven  white  swans  on  one  lake's  lea, 
Seven  white  flowerhke  stars  in  Heaven, 
All  aie  types  unmeet  to  be 
For  a  birthday's  crown  (A  seven. 

.  Not  the  radiance  of  the  roses, 
Not  the  blessing  of  the  bread, 
Not  the  breeze  that  ere  day  grows  is 
Fresh  for  sails  and  swans,  and  closes 
Wings  above  the  sun's  grave  spread 
When  the  starshine  on  the  snows  is 
Sweet  as  sleep  on  sorrow  shed. 

Nothing  sweeter,  nothing  best. 
Holds  so  good  and  sweet  a  treasure 
As  the  love  wherewith  once  blest 
Joy  grows  holy,  grief  takes  rest, 
Life,  half  tired  with  hours  to  measure, 
FiUs  his  eyes  and  lips  and  breast 
With  most  light  and  breath  of  pleasure; 


256  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

As  the  rapture  unpolluted, 

As  the  passion  undefiled. 

By  whose  force  all  pains  heart-rooted 

Are  transfigured  and  transmuted, 
Recompensed  and  reconciled, 
Through  the  imperial,  undisputed, 
Present  godhead  of  a  child. 

Brown  bright  eyes  and  fair  bright  head, 
Worth  a  worthier  crown  than  this  is, 
Worth  a  worthier  song  instead. 
Sweet  grave  wise  round  mouth,  full  fed 
With  the  joy  of  love,  whost  bliss  is 
More  than  mortal  wine  and  bread, 
Lips  whose  words  arc  sweet  as  kisses. 

Little  hands  so  glad  of  giving, 

Little  heart  so  glad  of  love. 

Little  soul  so  glad  of  living, 

While  the  strong  swift  hours  are  weaving 

Light  with  darkness  woven  above, 

Time  for  mirth  and  time  for  grieving. 

Plume  of  raven  and  plume  of  dove. 

I  can  give  you  but  a  word 

Warm  with  love  therein  for  leaven, 

But  a  song  that  falls  unheard 

Yet  on  ears  of  sense  unstirred 

Yet  by  song  so  far  from  Heaven, 

Whence  you  came  the  brightest  bird. 

Seven  years  since,  of  seven  times  seven. 

Algernon  Charits  Swinburne  [1837- 


Creep  awa',  mybaimie,  creep  afore  ye  gang, 
Cock  ye  baith  your  lugs  to  your  auld  Grannie's  sang: 
Gin  ye  gang  as  far  ye  will  think  the  road  lang. 
Creep  awa',  my  bairnie,  creep  afore  ye  gang. 


Castles  in  the  Air  257 

Creep  awa',  my  bainiie,  yc'ie  ower  young  t9  leant 
To  tot  up  aod  down  yet,  my  bcHinie  wee  baira; 
Better  crecpin'  cannie,  thao  fa'in'  »i'  a  bang, 
Duntin'  a'  your  wee  hrow, — creep  afore  ye  gan^ 

Yell  creep,  an'  ye'U  hotch,  an'  ye'll  nod  to  your  mither, 
Watchin'  ilka  step  o'  your  wee  dousy  brither; 
Rest  >-e  on  the  floor  till  your  wee  limbs  grow  Strang, 
An'  ye'U  be  a  braw  chie!  yet, — creep  afore  ye  gang. 

The  wee  birdie  fa'a  when  it  tries  ower  soon  to  flee, 
Folks  are  sure  to  tumble,  when  they  climb  ower  hie; 
They  wha  canna  walk  rij^t  are  sure  to  come  to  wning. 
Creep  awa',  my  baimie,  creep  afore  ye  gang. 

JoMM  BtillantiHtiitaS-itjj] 


The  bonnie,  bonnie  bairn  who  sits  poking  in  the  ase, 
dowering  in  the  fire  wi'  his  wee  round  face. 
Laughing  at  the  fuflin'  lowe-Tvbat  sees  he  there? 
Ha!  the  young  dreamer's  bigging  castles  in  the  an-. 

Hb  wee  chubby  face  and  hU  touzie  curly  pow 
Are  laughing  and  nodding  to  the  dancing  lowe; 
Hell  brown  his  rosy  cheeks,  and  singe  his  sunny  hair,  ' 
Glowering  at  the  icipe  wi'  their  castles  in  the  air. 

He  sees  muckle  castles  towering  to  (he  moon; 

He  sees  little  sodgers  pu'ing  them  a'  doun; 

Warids  whommlin'  up  and  doun,  bleezing  wi'  a  flare,— 7 

See  how  he  loups  as  they  glimmer  in  the  airl 

For  a'  sae  sage  he  looks,  what  can  the  laddie  ken? 
He's  thinking  upon  naething,  like  mony  mighty  men: 
A  wee  thing  mak's  us  think,  a  sma'  thing  mak's  us  Stare,- 
TTierc  are  mrfr  folk  than  him  bigging  castles  in  the  air; 

Sc  a  m'ght  in  winter  may  wecl  mak'  him  cauld; 
Hti  diin  upon  his  bu&y  hand  will  soon  mak'  him  ^uld; 
His  brow  is  brent  sae  braid— O  piay  that  daddy  Case 
Wad  kt  the  wean  alaiw  wi'  his  castles  in  the  airl 

p:hy  Google 

258  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

He'll  glower  at  the  fire,  and  he'll  keek  at  the  llglii; 
But  mony  sparkling  stara  are  swallowed  up  by  Night: 
Aulder  e'en  than  his  are  glamored  by  a  glare, — 
Hearts  are  broken,  heads  are  turned,  wi'  castla  in  the  air. 


Undek  my  window,  under  my  window. 

All  in  the  M>dsumm»  weather, 
Three  little  girls  with  flutt«ritig  ouls 

Flit  to  and  fro  together; — 
There's  Bell  with  her  bonnet  of  satin  sheen, 
And  Maud  with  her  mantle  of  silver-gieeo. 

And  Kate  with  her  scarlet  feather. 

Under  my  window,  under  my  window, 
Leaning  stealthily  over,  .    . 

Merry  and  dear,  the  voice  I  hear 
Of  each  glad-hearted  rover. 

Ah!  sly  little  Kate,  she  steals  my  roses; 

And  Maud  and  Bell  twine  wreaths  and  posies, 
As  meriy  as  bees  in  clover. 

Under  my  window,  under  my  window, 

In  the  blue  Midsummer  weather. 
Stealing  si 

I  catch 
Bell  with  I 
And  Mauc  n,. 


Under  my  window,  under  iny  window, 

And  off  through  the  orchard  doses;  , . 

While  Maud  ^e  Routs,  and  Bell  she  pouts,   . 

They  scamper  and  drop  their  posies; 
But  dear  little  Kate  takes  naught  amiss, 
And  leaps  in  my  arms  with  a  loving  kbs. 

And  I  give  her  alt  my  roses. 

Thomas  WeslmMd  [lau^-tSBS] 



E  Ancient  Hju 

Piped  the  blackbird  on  tKe  beechwood  spt&y 
"Pretty  mud,  dow  waadering  this  way. 

What's  your  name?"  quoth  he — 
"What's  yout  name?    Oh  stop  and  strai^t  unfold. 
Pretty  maid  with  showery  curls  <rf  gold," — 

"Little  Bell,"  said  she. 

Uttle  Bell  sat  down  beneath  the  rocks — 
Tossed  aside  her  gleaming  golden  locks— 

"Bonny  bird,"  quoth  she, 
"Sing  me  your  best  song  before  I  go." 
"Here's  the  very  finest  song  I  know, 

Little  Bell,"  said  he. 

And  the  blackbird  piped;  yoa  never  heard 

Half  so  gay  a  song  horn  any  bird- 
Full  of  quips  and  wiles, 

Now  so  round  and  rich,  now  soft  and  slow. 

All  for  love  of  that  sweet  face  below, 
Dimpled  o'er  with  aniles. 

And  the  while  the  bonny  bird  did  pour 
Hb  full  heart  out  freely  o'er  and  o'er 

'Neath  the  morning  skies, 
In  the  litde  childish  heart  below 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  grow, 
And  shine  forth  in  happy  overflow 

From  the  blue,  bright  eyes. 

Down  the  dell  she  tripped  and  through  the  glade, 
Peeped  the  squirrel  from  the  haze]  shade, 

And  from  out  the  tree 
Swung,  and  leaped,  and  frolicked,  void  of  fear, — 
While  bold  Uackbird  piped  that  all  migltt  bifa — 

"Littfe  Bell,"  i»ped  he. 


26o  Poems  of  YoutK  and  Age 

Little  Bell  sat  down  amid  the  (em — 
"Squirrel,  to  your  task  return — 

Bring  me  nuts,"  quoth  she. 
Up,  away  the  frisky  squirrel  hies — 
Golden  wood-lights  glancing  in  his  eyes — 

And  adown  the  tree, 
Great  ripe  nuts,  kissed  brown  by  July  biw, 
In  the  little  lap  dropped  one  by  one — 
Hark,  how  blackbird  pipes  to  see  the  funi 

"Happy  Bdl."  pipes  he. 

Little  Bell  looked  up  and  down  the  glade — 
"Squirrel,  squirrel,  if  you're  not  afr^d,. 

Come  and  share  with  mel" 
Down  came  squirri:!  uager  for  his  fare — 
Down  came  boimy  blackbird  I  declare; 
Little  Bell  gave  each  his  honest  share — 

Ah  the  merry  three! 
And  (he  while  these  frolic  playmates  twain 
Piped  and  frisked  from  bough  lo  bough  again,; 

'Neath  the  morning  skies,  r 

In  the  little  childish  heart  below 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  gcow, 
And  shine  out  is  happy  overflow 

From  her  blue,  bright  eyes. 


Prays  so  lovingly?" 
Low  and  soft,  oh!  very  low  and  soft. 
Crooned  the  blackbird  in  the  orchard  croft, 

"Bell,  dear  Bell!"  crooned  he. 

"Whom  God's  creatures  love,"  the  angeH  fair 
Murmured,  "God  doth  Uess  'with  tngds'  care; 


The  Barefoot  Boy 

Child,  thy  bed  shaU  be 
Folded  safe  from  harm— Love  deep  and  kind 
Shall  watch  around  and  leave  good  gifts  behind, 

Little  Bell,  for  tbeel" 

Tkomo)  Weitwood  |i8i4?-iei 


Blessings  on  thee,  little  man, 
Barefoot  boy,  with  cheek  of  tan  I 
With  thy  turned-up  pantaloons. 
And  thy  merry  whistled  tunes; 
With  thy  red  lip,  redder  still 
Kissed  by  strawberries  on  the  hill; 
With  the  sunshine  on  thy  face. 
Through  thy  torn  brim's  jaunty  grace; 
From  my  heart  I  give  thee  joy,— 
1  was  once  a  barefoot  boy! 
Prince  thou  art,— the  grown-up  nian 
Only  is  republican. 
Let  the  million-doUared  ride! 
Barefoot,  trudging  at  his  side. 
Thou  hast  more  than  he  can  buy 
In  the  reach  of  ear  and  eye,^ 
Outward  sunshine,  inward  joy; 
Blessings  on  thee,  barefoot  boy! 

Oh  for  boyhood's  painless  play, 
Sleep  that  wakes  in  laughing  day, 
Health  that  mocks  the  doctor's  rules, 
Knowledge  never  learned  of  schools, 
Of  the  wild  bee's  morning  chase, 
Of  the  wild  flower's  lime  and  place. 
Flight  of  fowl  and  habitude 
Of  the  tenants  of  the  wood; 
How  the  tortoise  bears  his  shell, 
How  the  woodchuck  digs  his  cell. 
And  the  ground-mole  sinks  his  well; 
How  the  robin  feeds  her  young. 
How  the  oriok's  ncet  is  huOgj 


i62  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Where  the  whitest  lilies  blow, 
Where  the  freshest  bemes  grow, 
Where  the  giound-mit  trails  iU  vine, 
Where  the  wood-grape's  duateis  ^liae; 
Of  the  black  wasp's  cunning  way, 
Mason  of  his  walls  of  clay, 
And  the  architectural  plans 
Of  gray  hornet  artisansi 
For,  eschewing  books  and  tasks, 
Nature  answers  all  he  asks; 
*  Hand  in  hand  with  her  he  walks. 

Face  to  face  with  her  he  laJks, 
Part  and  pared  of  her  joy, — 
Blessings  on  the  barefoot  boy! 

Oh  for  boyhood's  time  of  June, 
Crowding  years  in  one  brief  moon. 
When  all  things  I  heard  or  saw, 
Me*  their  master,  waited  for. 

Oh  for  festal  dainties  spread, 
Like  my  bowl  of  milk  and  bread; 


The  Heritage  26;^ 

Pewter  q)06D  and  bowt  of  wood, 
On  the  dooT'Stone,  gray  and  nidel 
o'er  me,  like  a  regal  tent, 
Cloudy-dbbed,  the  sunset  bent. 
Purple-curtained,  fringed  with  gold, 
Locf>eil  in  many  a  wiiid'swung  fold; 
While  for  music  came  the  play 
0£  the  pied  frogs'  orchestra; 
And,  to  light  the  noisy  chmr. 
Lit  the  fly  his  lamp  of  fire. 
I  wa£  monarch:  pomp  and  joy 
Waited  on  the  l«refoot  boy! 

Cheerily,  then,  my  little  man, 
Live  and  laugh,  as  boyhood  can! 
Though  the  flinty  slopes  be  hard, 
Stubble-speared  the  new-mown  sward, 
Every  mom  shall  lead  thee  through 
Fresh  baptisms  of  the  d^w; 
Every  evening  from  thy  feet 
Shall  the  cool  wind  kiss  the  heat: 
All  too  soon  these  feet  must  hide 
In  the  priam  cells  of  pride, 
Lose  the  freedom  of  the  sod. 
Like  a  colt's  for  work  be  shod, 
Matje  to  tread  the  mills  of  toil. 
Up  and  down  in  ceaseless  moil: 
Happy  if  their  track  be  found 
Never  on  forbidden  groimd; 
IJappy  a  they  sink  not  in 
Quick  and  treacherous  sands  of  sin. 
Ah!  that  thou  couldst  know  thy  joy. 
Ere  it  passes,  barefoot  boy  I 

Jekn  CfceitUaf  Whillier  (iSot-iSosJ 


The  rich  man 's  son  inherits  knds, 

And  ^es  of  brick  and  stone,  and  g 
And  he  inherits  soft  white  hands, 

p:Sy  Google 

a64  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  tender  flesh  that  fears  tbe  odd, 
Nor  dares  to  wear  a  gament  <dd; 
A  heritage,  it  scents  to  me, 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  ttt. 

The  rich  man's  son  inherits  cares;    • 
The  bank  may  break,  the  factory  bum, 

A  breath  may  burst  his  bubble  shares,  , 
And  soft  white  hands  could  hanlly  earn 
A  living  that  would  serve  his  turn; 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me. 

One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

The  rich  man's  son  inherits  trants, 
His  stomach  cravcsfor  dainty  fare; 

With  sated  heart,  he  hears  the  pants 
Of  toiling  hinds  with  brown  arms  bare. 
And  wearies  in  his  easy-chair; 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

One  scarce  "would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

What  doth  the  poor  man 's  son  inherit? 

Stout  muscles  and  a  sinewy  heart, 
A  hardy  frame,  a  hardier  spirit, 

King  of  two  hands,  he  does  his  part 

In  every  useful  toil  and  art; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit? 
Wishes  o 'erjoyed  with  humble  things, 

A  rank  adjudged  by  toil-won  merit, 
Content  that  from  employment  springs, 
A  heart  tliat  in  his  labor  sings; 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

What  doth  the  poor  man 's  son  inherit? 

A  patience  learned  of  being  poot. 
Courage,  if  sorrow  come,  to 


Letty's  Globe  26  j 

A  fdkrw-feding  that  is  sure 
To  make  the  outcast  bless  his  door; 
A  hentagCi  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  mi^t  wish  to  hdd  io  fee. 

O  rich  man's  son!  (here  is  a  toil 
That  with  all  othere  level  stands; 

Large  charity  doth  never  soil, 
But  only  whiten,  soft  white  hands; 

Both,  heirs  to  some  six  feet  of  sod, 

Are  equal  in  the -earth  at  last; 
Both,  children  of  the  same  dear  God, 

Prove  title  to  your  heirship  vast 

By  record  of  a  well-filled  past; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  mc, 
WeU  worth  a  life  to  hold  in  fee. 

James  Riuseil  Lomell  [18(9-1891] 



When  Letty  had  scarce  passed  her  third  glad  year. 

And  her  young  artless  words  began  to  flow, 

One  day  we  gave  the  child  a  colored  sphere 

Of  the  wide  Earth,  that  she  might  mark  and  know. 

By  tint  and  outline,  all  its  sea  and  land. 

She  patted  all  the  world ;  old  Empires  peeped 

Between  her  baby  Angers;  her  soft  hand 

Was  welcome  at  all  frontiers,    fiow  she  leaped, 

p:hy  Google 

16  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  laughed  and  prattled  in  ber  irarld-widc  blissl 
But  when  we  turned  her  sweet  unJeamdd  eye 
On  our  own  Isle,  she  raised  a  joyous  cry, — 

"O  yesi  I  see  it,  Letty's  home  is  there!" 
And  white  she  hid  all  England  with  a  kiss. 
Bright  over  Europe  fell  her  goldea  hair. 

Charles  Tennyson  Turner  [i8o8-iB7gl 


"Sylvia,  hush!"  I  said,  "come  here, 

Come  see  a  fairy-tale,  my  dear! 
Tales  told  arc  good,  tales  seen  are  best!" 
The  dove  was  brooding  on  the  nest 
In  the  lowest  crotch  of  the  apple  tree. 
I  lifted  her  up  so  quietly. 
That  when  she  could  have  touched  the  bird 
The  soft  gray  creature  had  not  stirred. 
It  looked  at  us  with  a  wild  dark  eye. 
But,  "Birdie,  fly!"  was  Sylvia's  cry, 
Impatient  Sylvia,  "Birdie,  fly." 
Ah,  well;  but  when  I  touched  the  neat, 
The  child  recoiled  upon  my  breast. 
Was  ever  such  a  startling  thing? 
Sudden  silver  and  purple  wing, 
The  dove  was  out,  away,  across. 
Struggling  heart-break  on  the  grass. 
And  there  in  the  cup  within  the  tree 
Two  milk-white  eggs  were  ours  to  see. 
Was  ever  thing  so  pretty?  Alack, 
"Birdie!"  Sylvia  cried,  "come  back!" 

Joseph  Rusieit  Taylor  (186&- 


I  LAY  upon  the  summer  grass. 

A  gold-haired,  sunny  child  came  Iqr, 
And  looked  at  me,  as  loath  to  pass. 

With  questions  in  her  lingering  eye. 


To  a  Uttle  Girl  267 

She  stnpped  and  wavered,'  then  diew  near, 

(Abl  the  pale  gi^  tuviUid  her  head!) 
And  o'er  my  ahmilder  sUH>ped  to  peer. 

"Why  do  you  read? "  sJie  said. 

"And  now  I  read  him,  nncc  u 


You  taught  me  ways  of  gracefulness  and  Fadnona  of:adch:es3. 
The  mode  of  plucking  panstea  and  the  art  of  sowing  cksb. 
And  tiow  to  handle  puppies,  with  propitiatory  pats 
For  mother  dogs,  and  little  acts  of  courtesy  to  cats.        ' 

0  connoisseur  of  pebbles,  colored  leaves  and  trickling  rills. 
Whom  seasons  fit  as  do  the  sheaths  that  wrap  the  daffodils. 
Whose  eyes'  divine  eipectaucy  foretells  some  starry  goal, 
You  taught  me  here  docility— and  how  to  save  my  soul. 
Bden  Parry  Eden  I18 


Her  eyes  are  like  foi^et-me-nots. 
So  loving,  kind  and  true; 

Her  lips  are  like  a  pink  sea-shell 
Just  as  the  sun  shines  through; 


68  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Her  hair  is  like  the  waving  graiii 
In  summer's  golden  light; 

And,  best  of  all,  her  little  aoul 
Is,  like  a  lily,  white. 

Ciulav  Kabbi  IiSjr- 



Taou  happy,  happy  elf! 
(But  stop, — first  let  me  kiss  away  that  tear!) 

Thou  tiny  image  of  myself! 
(My  love,  he's  poking  peas  into  his  ear!) 
Thou  merry,  laughing  sprite. 
With  spirits  feather-light. 
Untouched  by  sorrow,  and  unsoiled  by  sin, —  . 
(My  dear,  the  child  is  swallowing  a  pin!) 

Thou  little  tricksy  Puck! 

With  antic  toys  so  funnily  bestuck, 

LigKt  as  the  singing  bird  that  wings  the  air, — 

(The  door!  the  door!  hcTl  tumble  down,  the  stair!) 

Thou  daiiiog  of  thy  sire! 

(Why,  Jane,  he'll  set  his  pinafore  aiiie!) 

Thou  imp  of  mirth  and  joy! 
In  Love's  dear  chain  so  strong  and  bright  a  link, 

Thou  idol  of  thy  parents,— (Drat  the  boy! 
There  goes  my  ink!) 

Thou  cherub,— but  of  earth; 
Fit  playfellow  for  Fays,  by  moonlight  pale. 

In  harmless  sport  and  mirth, 
(That  dog  will  bite  him,  if  he  pulls  its  tail!) 

Thou  human  humming-bee,  extracting  honey 
From  every  blossom  in  the  world  that  blows, 

Singing  in  youth's  Elysium  ever  sunny. — 
(Another  tumble!   That's  his  precious  nose!) 

Thy  father's  pride  and  hope! 

(He'll  break  the  mirror  with  that  skipping-rope!) 


A  New  Poet  i6g 

With  pure  heart  nevly  stamped  from  nature!a  mint, 
(Wiere  did  he  leant  that  squint?) 
Thou  young  domestic  dove! 
(Hell  have  that  jug  oS  with  another  shovei) 
Dear  nursling  of  the  hymeneal  nest! 
(Are  these  tore  dothes  his  best?) 
Little  epitome  of  mani 
(He'll  climb  upon  the  table,  that's  his  plan!) 
Touched  with  the  beauteous  tints  of  dawning  life, — 
(He's  got  a  knife!) 

Tfiou  enviable  being! 

No  storms,  no  clouds,  in  thy  blue  sky  foreseeing. 

Play  on,  play  on. 

My  eltin  John  I 
Toss  the  light  bail,  bestride  the  stick, — 
(I  knew  so  many  cakes  would  make  him  sick{)   ■ 

With  fancies,  buoyant  as  the  thistle-down, 
Prompting  the  face  grotesque,  and  antic  brisk. 
With  many  a  lamb-like  frisk! 

(He's  got  the  scissora^  snipping  at  your  gown !) 

Thou  pretty  opening  rose! 
(Go  to  your  mothel-,  child,  and  wipe  your  nose!) 
Balmy  and  breathing  music  like  the  South, — 
(He  really  brings  my  heart  into  my  mouth!) 
Fresh  as  the  mom,  and  brilliant  as  its  star, — 
(1  wish  that  window  had  an  iron  bar!) 
Bold  as  the  hawk,  yet  gentle  as  the  dove; — 
(I'll  tell  you  what,  my  love, 
.1  cannot  write  unless  he's  sent  above.) 

Thomas  Hood  [1799-1843) 


I  wBiTE-    He  sits  beside  my  chair, 
And  scribbtes,  (00,  in  hushed  delight, 

He  d^  his  pen  in  charmM  air: 
What  is  it  be  [M^ends  to  write? 


i^Q  Poems  of  Yojth  and  Age 

He  toils  and  toils;  the  paper  gives 
No  due  to  aught  he  thinks.    What  then? 

His  little  heart  is  glad;  he  lives 
Hie  poems  that  he  cannot  pen. 

Strange  fancies  throng  that  baby  brain. 

What  grave,  sweet  looks!   What  earnest  typsl 
He  stops — reflects — and  now  again 

His  unrecording  pen  he  plies. 

It  seems  a  satire  on  myself, — 

These  dreamy  nothings  scrawled  in  air,    . 
,  This  thought,  this  work!    Oh  tricksy  elf, 
Wouldst  drive  thy  father  to  despair? 

Despair!    Ah,  no;  the  heart,  the  mind 
Persists  in  hoping, — schemes  and  strives 

That  there  may  linger  with  our  kind 
Some  memory  of  our  Kttle  Kves. 

Beneath  his  rock  in  the  early  woiid 

Smiling  the  naked  hunter  lay, 
And  sketched  on  horn  the  spear  he  hurled. 

The  urus  which  he  made  his  prey. 

Like  him  I  strive  in  hope  my  rhymes 
May  keep  my  name  a  little  while, — 

O  child,  who  knows  how  many  times 
We  two  have  made  the  angels  smile! 

William  CarOon  [184s- 


Bright  be  the  skies  that  cover  thee. 

Child  of  the  sunny  brow, — 
Bright  ag  the  dream  flung  over  thee 

By  all  that  meets  thee  now,— 
Thy  heart  is  beating  joyously, 

Thy  voice  is  like  a  bird's, 
And  sweetly  brealts  the  melody 

Of  thy  imperfect  words. 


To  Laura  W ,  Two  Years  Old    271 

I  know  DO  fount  that  guBhes  out 
As  gladly  as  thy  tiny  shout. 

I  would  that  thou  niight'st  ever  be 

As  beautiful  as  now, 
That  time  mi^t  erer  leave  as  free 

Thy  yet  unwritten  brow. 
I  would  life  were  all  poetry 

To  gentle  measure  set, 
That  naught  but  chastened  melody 

Might  stain  thine  eye  of  jet. 
Nor  one  discordant  note  be  spoken. 
Till  God  tbe  cunning  harp  hath  broken. 

I  would — but  deeper  things  than  these 

Wth  woman's  lot  are  wove: 
Wrought  of  intensest  sympathies, 

And  nerved  by  purest  love; 
By  the  str<»ig  spirit's  discipline. 

By  the  fierce  wrong  forgiven, 
By  all  that  wrings  the  heart  of  sin. 

Is  woman  won  to  heaveou 
"Her  lot  is  on  thee,"  lovely  child — 
God  keep  thy  spirit  undefiled! 

I  fear  thy  gentle  lovrfiness. 

Thy  witching  tone  and  sir, 
TTiine  eye's  beseeching  earnestness 

May  be  to  thee  a  snare. 
The  silver  stare  may  purely  shine. 

The  watere  taintless  flow: 
But  they  who  kneel  at  woman's  shrine 

Breathe  on  it  as  they  bow. 
Peace  may  fiing  back  the  gift  ^;ajn. 
But  the  crushed  flower  wUl  leave  a  stain. 

What  shall  preserve  thee,  beautiful  child? 

Keep  thee  as  thou  art  now? 
Bring  thee,  a  spirit  undefiled, 

At  God's  pure  throne  to  bow? 


2  72  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  world  is  but  a  broken  reed, 

And  life  grows  early  dim— 
Who  shall  be  near  thee  in  thy  need, 

To  lead  thee  up  to  Him? 
He  who  himself  was  "undefiled?" 
Willi  Him  we  trust  thee,  beautiful  childl 

Naihaind  Parker  WiUti  Ueo6-ii6il 


Rose,  when  I  remember  you, 
Little  lady,  scarcely  two, 
I  am  suddenly  aware 
Of  the  angeb  in  the  air. 
All  yonr  softly  gracious  ways 
Make  an  island  in  my  days 
Where  my  thoughts  fly  back  to  be 
Sheltered  from  too  strong  a  sea. 
All  your  luminous  delight 
Shines  before  me  in  the  night 
When  I  grope  for  sleep  and  find 
Only  shadows  in  my  mind. 

Rose,  when  I  remember  you. 
White  and  glowing,  pink  and  new, 
With  so  swift  a  sense  of  fun 
Althongh  life  haa  just  begun; 
With  so  sure  a  pride  of  place 
In  your  very  infant  face, 
I  should  like  to  make  a  prayer 
To  the  angels  in  the  air: 
"If  an  angel  ever  brings 
Me  a  baby  in  her  wings, 
Please  be  certain  that  it  growa 
Very,  very  much  like  Rose," 

Sam  TeasdaU  [iS 


The  Picture  of  Little  T.  C. 

TiUELY  bloasoDi,  IsSant  {air, 
Foodliog  of  a,  happy  pair, 
Every  morn  and  every  night 
Tbcir  solid tous  delight, 
Sleeping,  waiting,  still  at  ease, 
Pleasing,  without  skill  to  please; 
Little  gossip,  blithe  and  hale, 
Tattling  many  a  broken  tale. 
Singing  many  a  tunekas  song, 
Lavish  of  a  heedless  tongtie; 
Simple  maiden,  void  of  art. 
Babbling  out  the  very  heart, 
Yet  abandoned  to  thy  will, 
Yet  imagining  no  ill, 
Yet  loo  innocent  to  blush; 
Like  the  linnet  in  the  bush 
To  the  roother-iinnet's  note 
Moduling  her  slender  throat; 
Chirping  forth  thy  pretty  joys, 
Wanton  in  the  change  of  toys. 
Like  the  linnet  green,  in  May 
Flitting  to  each  bloomy  spray; 
Wearied  then  and  glad  of  rest, 
Like  the  linnet  in  the  neat: — 
This  thy  present  happy  lot. 
This,  in  time  will  be  forgot; 
Other  pleasures,  other  cares. 
Ever-busy  Time  prepares; 
And  thou  sbalt  in  thy  daughter  see, 
This  picture,  once,  resembled  thee. 

Ambrose  PliUips  li67S?-i74 

See  with  what  simfdictty 
This  nymph  begins  her  golden  days!  ■ 
In  the  green  grass  she  loves  to  lie, 
And  there  with  her  fair  aspect  tames 


274  Poems  of  Youth  tuid  Age 

The  wilder  flowers,  and  gives  them  names; 
But  only  witK  the  roses  plays. 

And  them  does  tell 
What  color  best  becomes  them,  and  what  unelL 

Who  can  foretell  for  what  hi^  cause 
This  darling  of  the  gods  was  bom? 
Yet  this  is  she  whose  chaster  laws 
The  wanton  Love  shall  one  day  fear. 
And,  under  her  command  sevue. 
See  his  bow  broke,  and  ensigns  torn. 

Happy  who  can 
Appease  this  virtuous  enemy  of  maul 

O  then  let  me  in  time  compound 
And  parley  with  those  conquering  eyes, 
Ere  they  have  tried  their  force  to  wound. 
Ere  with  their  glancing  wheels  they  drive 
In  triumph  over  hearts  that  strive, 
And  them  that  yield  but  more  despise: 

Let  me  be  laid 
Where  I  may  see  the  glories  from  some  shade. 

Meantime,  whilst  every  verdant  thing 
Itself  does  at  thy  beauty  charm. 
Reform  the  errors  of  the  Spring; 
Make  that  the  tulips  may  have  share 
Of  sweetness,  seeing  Ihcy  are  fair. 
And  roses  of  their  thorns  disarm; 

But  most  procure 
That  violets  may  a  longer  age  endure. 

But  O  young  beauty  of  the  woods, 

Whom  Nature  courts  with  fruits  and  flowers, 

Gather  the  flowers,  but  spare  the  buds; 

Lest  Flora,  angry  at  thy  crime 

To  kill  her  infants  in  their  prime, 

Do  quickly  make  the  example  yours; 

And,  ere  we  see, 
Nip,  in  the  blossom,  all  our  hopes  and  thee. 

Andrew  Mandl  [1&11-1678 

p:hy  Google 

■  To  Hartley  Coleri<^e  iyj 



O  thod!  whose  fancies  from  afar  are  brought: 

Wba  of  thy  words  dost  make  a  mode  appare], 

And  fittest  to  unutterable  thought 

The  breeze-like  motion  and  the  self-bom  carol; 

Thou  faiiy  voyager!  that  dost  Boat 

Id  such  dear  water,  that  thy  boat 

May  rather  seem 

To  brood  on  air  than  on  an  earthly  stream; 

Suspended  in  a  stream  as  clear  as  sky. 

Where  earth  and  heaven  do  make  one  imagery; 

0  blessed  vision  I  happy  child! 
Thou  art  so  eiquisitely  wild, 

1  think  of  thee  with  many  fears 

For  what  may  be  thy  lot  in  future  years. 

I  thou^t  of  times  when  Pain  might  be  thy  guest, 

Lord  of  thy  house  and  hospitality; 

And  Grief,  uneasy  lover!  never  rest 

But  when  she  sate  mthin  the  touch  of  thee. 

0  too  industrious  folly! 

0  vain  and  causeless  melanchtJyl 

Nature  will  either  end  thee  quite; 

Or,  lengthening  out  thy  season  of  delight. 

Preserve  for  thee,  by  individual  right, 

A  young  lamb 's  heart  among  the  full-grown  flocks. 

What  hast  thou  to  do  with  sorrow, 

Or  the  injuries  of  to-morrow? 

"nwu  art  a  dew-drop,  which  the  mom  brings  forth, 

Hi-fitted  to  sustain  unkindly  shodis, 

Or  to  be  trailed  along  the  soiling. earth; 

A  gem  that  glitters  while  it  lives. 

And  DO  forewarning  gives; 

But,  at  the  touch  of  wrong,  without  a  strife. 

Slips  in  a  moment  out  of  life. 

William  Wordsworth  I17J0-1850I 


276  Poems  of  Youth,  and  Age 



Lords,  knights,  and  squires,  the  numerous  band 
TTiat  wear  the  fair  Miss  Mary's  fetters. 

Were  summooed  by  her  high  cammand 
To  show  their  passions  by  their  letters. 

My  pen  amongst  the  rest  I  took, 
Lest  those  bright  eyes,  that  cannot  read. 

Should  dart  their  kindling  fires,  and  look 
The  power  they  have  to  be  obeyed. 

Nor  quality,  nor  reputation, 

Forbids  me  yet  my  flame  to  tell; 
Dear  Five-years-old  befriends  my  passion, 

And  I  may  write  till  she  can  ^xJl. 

For,  while  she  makes  her  silkworms'  beds 

With  all  the  tender  things  1  swear; 
Whilst  all  the  house  my  passion  reads. 

In  papers  round  her  baby's  hair; 

She  may  receive  and  own  my  flame; 

For,  though  the  strictest  prudes  shotild  know  it, 
She'll  pass  for  a  most  virtuous  dame, 

And  I  for  an  unhappy  poet. 

Then  too,  alas!  when  she  shall  tear 
The  rhymes  some  younger  rival  sends, 

She'll  give  me  leave  to  write,  i  fear. 
And  we  shall  still  continue  friends. 

For,  as  our  dilTerent  ages  move. 

Tis  so  ordained  (would  Fate  but  mend  it!), 
That  I  shall  be  past  making  love 

When  she  begins  to  comprehend  it. 

MaUhew  Prior  I1664-1711) 


Ex  Ore  Infantium 

LnTLE  Jesus,  wast  Tliou  shy 
Once,  and  just  so  small  as  1? 
And  what  did  it  feel  like  to  be 
Out  of  Heaven,  and  just  like  me? 
Didst  Thou  sometimes  Chink  of  there, 
And  ask  where  all  the  aogeb  were? 
I  aboold  think  that  I  would  ciy 
For  my  bouse  all  made  of  sky;. 
I  would  look  about  the  air. 
And  wonder  where  my  angeb  were; 
And  at  waking  'twould  distress  me — 
Not  an  angel  there  to  dress  me! 
Hadst  Thou  ever  any  toys, 
Like  us  little  girls  and  boys? 
And  didst  Thou  play  in  Heaven  with  all 
The  angels,  that  were  not  too  tall, 
With  stars  for  marbles?    Did  the  things 
Play  Con  you  see  mci  through  their  wings? 
Didst  Thou  kneel  at  night  to  pray, 
And  didst  Thou  join  TTiy  hands,  this  way? 
And  did  they  tire  sometimes,  being  young, 
And  make  the  prayer  seem  very  long? 
And  dost  Thou  like  it  best,  that  we 
Should  join  our  hands  to  pray  to  Thee?  ' 
I  used  to  think,  before  I  knew, 
The  prayer  not  said  unless  we  do. 
And  did  Thy  Mother  at  the  night 
Kiss  Thee,  and  fold  the  clothes  in  rij^t? 
And  didst  Thou  feel  quite  good  in  bed, 
Kissed,  and  sweet,  and  Thy  prayers  said? 
Thou  canst  not  have  forgotten  all 
That  it  feels  like  to  be  small: 
And  Thou  know'st  I  cannot  pray 
To  Thee  ia  my  father's  way — 
When  Thou  wast  so  little,  say, 
Could'st  Thou  talk  Thy  Father's  way?— 
So.  a  little  Child,  come  down 
And  hear  a  child's  tongue  like  Thy  own; 


zyi  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Take  mc  by  the  hand  and  walk, 

And  Ibten  to  my  baby-talk. 

To  Thy  Father  show  my  prayer 

(He  wUl  look,  Thou  art  so  fair), 

And  say;  "0  Father,  I,  Thy  Son, 

Bring  the  prayei  of  a  Uttle  one." 

And  He  will  smile,  that  children's  tongue 

Has  not  changed  since  Thou  vast  yotu^I 

Frattcis  Tlumpa»n  [iBsb-ioojI 

Finding  Francesca  full  of  tears,  I  said, 
"Tell  me  thy  trouble."    "Oh,  my  dog  is  deadl 
Murdered  by  poison l^no  one  knows  for  what! — 
Was  ever  dog  born  captable  of  that?" 
"Child," — I  began  to  say,  but  checked  my  thought,— 
"A  better  dog  can  easily  be  bought." 
For  no — what  animal  could  him  replace? 
Those  loving  eyes!    That  fond,  confiding  face! 
Those  dear,  dumb  touches!    Therefore  I  was  dumb. 
From  word  of  mine  could  any  comfort  come? 
A  bitter  sorrow  'tis  to  lose  a  brute 
Friend,  dog  or  horse,  for  grief  must  then  be  mate, — 
So  many  smile  to  see  the  rivers  shed 
Of  tears  for  one  poor,  speechless  creatioe  detKL 
When  parents  die  there's  many  a  word  tn  Bay — 
Kind  words,  consoling — one  can  always  pray; 
When  children  die  'tis  natural  to  tell 
Their  mother,  "Certainly,  with  them  'tiawelll" 
But  for  a  dog,  'twas  all  the  life  he  had. 
Since  death  is  end  of  dogs,  or  good  or  bad. 
This  was  his  world;  he  ^vas  contented  here; 
Imagined  nothing  better,  naught  more  dear. 
Than  his  young  mistress;  sought  no  brighter  sphere; 
Having  no  sin,  asked  not  to  be  forgiven; 
Ne'er  guessed  at  God  nor  ever  dreamed  of  heaven. 
Now  he  has  passed  away,  so  much  of  love 
Goes  from  our  life,  without  one  hope  above! 
Wh^  a  dog  dies  there's  nothing  to  be  said 
But — kiss  me,  darluig!— dear  old  Smiler's  dead. 

Thomas  WiUiam  Fanons  \iBig-iStfi\ 


The  Child's  Heritage 

Oh,  there  are  those,  a.  sordid  clan, 

With  pride  in  gaud  and  faith  in  gold. 
Who  prize  the  sacred  soul  of  man 

For  what  his  hands  have  sold. 

With  Eld  thy  chain  of  days  is  one: 
TiK  seas  are  still  Homeric  seas; 

Thy  skies  shall  glow  with  Pindar's  sun, 
The  stars  of  SocratesI 

Unaged  the  ancient  tide  shall  surge, 

The  old  Spring  burn  along  the  bou^: 
For  thee,  the  new  and  old  converge 

ss  boon  of  breath; 


Unto  thy  flesh,  the  soothing  dust; 

Thy  soul,  the  gift  of  being  free: 
The  torch  my  fathers  gave  in  trust, 

Thy  father  gives  to  thee! 

Jokn  C.  Neikardt  [1881- 

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aSo  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


A  PUBLIC  haunt  they  found  her  in: 

She  lay  asleep,  a  lovely  child; 

The  only  thing  left  undefiled 
Where  all  things  else  bore  taiut  o[  sin. 

Her  supple  outlines  fixed  in  clay 

The  universal  law  suspend, 

And  turn  Time's  chariot  back,  and  blend 
A  thousand  years  with  yesterday. 

A  sinless  touch,  austere  yet  warm, 
Around  her  girlish  figure  pressed, 
Caught  the  sweet  imprint  of  her  breast. 

And  held  her,  surely  clasped,  from  harm. 

Truer  than  work  of  sculptor's  art 
Comes  this  dear  maid  of  long  ago. 
Sheltered  from  woeful  chance,  to  show 

A  spirit's  lovely  counterpart, 

And  bid  mistrustful  men  be  sure 
That  form  shall  fate  of  flesh  escape. 
And,  quit  of  earth's  corruptions,  shape 

Itself,  imperishably  pure. 

Edward  Saitdford  ilarlin  [1856- 

Tired  of  play !   Tired  of  playl 
What  hast  thou  done  this  live-long  day! 
The  bird  is  silent  and  so  is  the  bee. 
The  shadow  is  cr  up  steeple  and  tree; 

The  doves  have  f  o  the  sheltering  eaves, 

And  the  nests  an  with  the  drooping  leaves; 

Twilight  gathers,  and  day  is  done, — 
How  hast  thou  ^lent  it,  restless  one? 

Playing!    And  what  hast  thou  done  beside 
To  tell  thy  mother  at  eventide? 


The  Reverie  of  Poor  Susan         281 

What  pTMirise  of  mom  is  left  tmbrokeni' 
What  kind  word  to  thy  playmate  spcdcenP 
Whom  hast  thou  pitied,  and  whom  f<agiv«i? 
How  with  thy  faults  has  duty  striven? 
What  hast  thou  learned  by  field  and  hill. 
By  greenwood  path  and  by  singing  rill? 

There  will  come  an  eve  to  a  longer  day 
That  will  find  thee  tired,— but  not  with  playl 
Aad  thou  wilt  learn,  as  thov  leamest  new, , 
With  wearied  hmbs  and  aching  brow, 
And  vish  the  shadows  woidd  faster  creep 
And  long  to  go  to  thy  quiet  sleep. 

Well  will  it  be  for  thee  then  if  thou 
An  as  tree  from  sin  and  shame  as  now! 
Well  for  thee  if  thy  tongue  can  tell 
A  tale  like  this,  of  a  day  spent  wcH,' 
If  thine  open  hand  hath  relieved  distress, 
And  thy  pity  hath  sprung  (o  wretchedness — 
If  thou  hast  forgiven  the  sore  offence 
And  humbled  thy  heart  with  penitence; 

If  Nature's  voices  have  spoken  to  thee 

With  her  holy  meanings,  eloquently — 

If  every  creature  hath  won  thy  love. 

From  the  creeping  wprm  to  the  brooding  dove — 

If  never  a  sad,  low-spoken  word 

Hath  plead  with  thy  human  heart  unheard — 

Then,  when  the  night  steals  on,  as  now 

It  will  bring  relief  to  thine  aching  brow, 

And,  with  joy  and  peace  at  the  thought  of  rest, 

Thou  wilt  sink  to  sleep  on  thy  mother's  breast. 

Nathaniel  Parker  Willis  |iBo5-i86;] 

At  il»e  conMr  of  Wood  Street,  when  daylight  appears, 
Hangs  a  Thrush  that  ain^  loud,  it  hassling  for  three  years: 
Poor  Susan  has  passed  by  the  q»t,  and  has  heard 
In  the  sileDce  of  morning  the  song  of  the  Bird. 

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282  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

'Tis  a  note  of  endiantment;  what  ails  her?   She  sees 
A  mountain  ascending,  a  vision  of  trees; 
Bright  volumes  of  vapor  through  Lothbury  glide, 
And  a  river  Sows  on  through  the  vale  of  Gieapstde. 
Green  pastures  she  views  in  the  midst  of  the  dale, 
Down  which  she  so  often  has  tri[^>ed  with  her  poil; 
And  a  single  small  cottage,  a  ncsl  like  a  dove's. 
The  one  only  dwelling  on  earth  that  she  loves. 
She  looks,  and  her  heart  is  in  heaven;  but  they  fade, 
The  mist  and  the  river,  the  hill  and  the  ^de: 
The  stream  will  not  flow,  and  the  hill  will  not  rise, 
And  the  colors  have  all  passed  away  from  hex  ^esl 

William  Wordsworth  [1770-1830] 

When  the  weather's  really  good 
We  go  nutting  in  the  wood; 
When  it  rains  we  stay  at  home, 
And  then  sometimes  other  some 
Of  the  neighbors'  children  come. 
Sometimes  we  have  jam  and  meat, 
All  the  things  we  lilie  to  eat; 
Sometimes  we  make  do  with  bread 
And  potatoes  boiled  instead. 
Once  when  we  were  put  to  bed 
We  had  nowt  and  mother  cried, 
But  that  was  after  father  died. 

So,  sometimes  wind  and  sometimes  rain, 
Then  the  sun  comes  back  again; 
Sometimes  rain  and  sometimes  snow, 
Goodness,  how  we'd  like  to  know 
If  things  will  always  alter  so. 

F»d  Madox  HueS"  (1873- 


The  Cty  of  the  Children  283 


When  a'  other  baixcies  are  hushed  to  their  hame 
By  aunty,  or  cousin,  or  frecky  grand-dame, 
Wha  stands  last  and  lanely,  an'  naebody  carin'7 
Tis  the  puir  doited  loonie, — the  mitherless  baiml 

The  mitherieas  bairn  gangs  to  his  lane  i>ed; 
Nane  covers  his  cauld  back,  or  haps  his  bare  head; 
His  wee  hackit  heelies  are  hard  as  the  aim. 
An'  lithdess  the  lair  o'  the  mitherless  bairn. 

Aneath  his  cauld  brow  siccan  dreams  hover  there, 
O'  hands  that  wont  kindly  to  kame  his  dark  hair; 
But  momin'  brings  dutches,  a'  reckless  an '  stern. 
That  lo'e  na  the  locks  o'  the  mitherless  bairni 

Yon  sister  that  sang  o'er  his  saftly  rocked  bed 
Now  rests  in  the  mools  where  her  mammie  is  laid; 
The  father  toils  sair  their  wee  bannock  to  ears, 
An'  kens  na  the  wrangs  o'  his  mitherless  bairn. 

a  earth; 

le  while, 
ur  smile; 
s  shaH  learn 

iss  bairn  t 


Do  ye  hear  the  children  weeping,  O  my  brotheis, 

Ere  the  sorrow  comes  with  yeats? 
They  are  leaning  their  young  heads  against  thdr  mothers. 

And  t/uH  cannot  stop  their  tears. 

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184  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  young  lambs  are  bleating  in  the  meadows, 

The  young  birds  arc  chirping  in  the  nest. 
The  young  fawns  arc  playing  with  the  shadows, 

The  young  flowers  arc  blowing  toward  the  west--— 
But  the  young,  young  children,  O  my  brothers. 

They  arc  weeping  bitterly! 
They  are  weeping  in  the  playtime  of  the  others. 
In  the  country  of  the  free. 

Do  you  question  the  young  childten  in  the  sorrow, 

-    Why  their  tears  are  falling  so? 
The  old  man  may  weep  for  his  to-monow 

Which  is  lost  in  Long  Ago; 
The  ok!  tree  is  leafless  in  the  forest. 

The  old  year  is  ending  in  the  frost, 
The  old  wound,  if  stricken,  is  the  sorest. 

The  old  hope  is  hardest  to  be  lost: 
But  the  young,  young  children,  O  my  brothers, 

Do  you  ask  [hem  why  they  stand 
Weeping  sore  before  the  bosoms  of  their  motJieis, ' 
In  our  happy  Fatherland? 

They  look  up  with  their  pale  and  sunken  faces. 

And  their*  looks  arc  sad  to  see. 
For  the  man 's  hoary  anguish  draws  and  presses 

Down  the  cheeks  of  infancy; 
"Your  old  earth,"  they  say,  "is  very  dreary; 
Our  young  feet,"  they  say,  "are  very  weak; 
Few  paces  have  we  taken,  yet  arc  wcarj' — 

Our  grave-rest  is  very  far  to  seek: 
Ask  the  aged  why  they  weep,  and  not  the  children 

For  the  outside  earth  is  cold, 
And  we  young  ones  stand  without,  in  our  bewildering, 

And  the  graves  arc  for  the  old. 

"True,"  say  the  children,  "it  may  happen 

That  wc-die  before  our  time: 
Little  Alice  died  last  year — her  grave  is  ghapen 

Like  a  snowball,  in  the  rime. 
We  looked  into  the  pit  prepared  to  take  her: 
Was  no  room  for  any  work  in  the  close  dayl 


The  Cry  of  the  Children  285 

From  the  sleep  wherein  she  lieth  nooB  will  vake  her, 

Crying,  'Get  up,  little  Mcel  it  is  day.' 
If  you  listra  by  that  grave,  in  siu  and  sbown-. 

With  your  ear  down,  little  Alice  never  cries; 
Could  we  see  h«  face,  be  sure  we  should  jiot  know  her. 

For  the  smile  has  time  for  growing  in  her  eyes: 
And  meny  go  her  moments,  lulled  and  stilled  in. 

The  shroud  by  the  ktrk-chime. 
It  is  good  when  it  happens, "  say  the  children, 
"That  we  die  before  ourtime." 

Alas,  alas,  the  children!  they  aiu  socking 

Death  in  life,  as  best  to  havel 
They  are  binding  up  their  hearts  away  fiotn  breaking>  1 

With  a  cerement  from  the  grave. 
Go  out,  diildien,  fr^D  the  mine  and  from.thc  dty. 

Sing  out,  childteo,  as  the  little  thrushes  do; 
Pluck  your  handfuls  of  the  meadow  cowslips  pretty ;     ' 

Laugh  aloud,  to  fed  your  fingers  let  them  through! 
But  they  answer,  "Are  your  cowslips  of  the  meadows 

Like  our  weeds  anear  the  mine? 

Leave  us  quiet  in  the  dark  of  the  coal-shadows, , 

From  your  pleasures  fair  and  fine! 

"For  oh,"  say  the  children,  "we  are  weary, 

And  we  cannot  run  or  leap; 
If  we  cared  for  ^s>y  meadows,  it  were  merely 

To  drop  down  In  thetn  and  sleep. 
Our  koees  ticmU«  sorely  in  the  stooping, 

We  fall  upon  our  faces,  trying  to  go; 
And,  uhdemeaih  our  heavy  eyelids  drooping. 

The  reddest  flower  would  look  as  pale  as  snow. 
For,  all  day,  we  drag  otu*  burden  Liiing,  ' 

Through  the  coal'dark,  underground;  ' 

Or,  all  day,  we  drive  the  wheels  of  iron 

In  the  factories,  round  and  round. 

"For,  all  day,  the  wheeb  are  dnming,  turning;  . 

Thdr  wind  comes  in  oar  faces, 
T31  our  hearts  torn,  our  heads,  with  pulBes  bunung, 

And  the  walla  turn  in  thdr  places: 


286  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Turns  the  sky  in  die  high  window  blank  and  reeling, 

Turns  the  long  light  that  drops  adown  the  w^ 
Turn  the  Uack  flies  that  crawl  along  the  ceiling:       '    ' 

All  are  turning,  all  the  day,  and  wa  with  all. 
And  all  day,  the  iron  wheels  are  dionii^; 

And  sometimes  we  could  pray, 
'0  ye  wheels,  (breaking  out  in  a  mad  moaning) 
'Stop!  be  silent  for  to-day!'  " 

Ay,  be  silent!    Let  them  hear  each  other  breathing 

For  a  moment,  mouth  to  mouth! 
Let  them  touch  each  other's  hands,  in  a  fresh  wreathing 

Of  their  tender  human  youtb! 
Let  them  feel  that  this  cold  metallic  motion 
Is  not  all  the  Ufe  God  fashions  or  reveals: 
Let  them  prove  their  living  souls  against  the  notion 

That  they  live  in  you,  or  under  you,  0  wheels! 
Still,  all  day,  the  iron  wheeb  go  onward,  ! 

Grinding  life  down  from  ite  mark; 
Ajid  the  children's  souls,  which  God  IsxilUng  sunward; 

Spin  on  blindly  in  the  dark. 

Now  tell  the  poor  young  children,  O  my  brothere, 

To  look  up  to  Him  and  pray; 
So  the  blessed  One,  who  blesseth  all  the  others. 

Will  bless  them  another  day. 
They  answer,  "  Wbo  is  God  that  He  should  bear  u3,      . 

While  the  rushing  of  the  iron  wheels  is  stirred? 
When  we  sob  aloud,  the  human  creatures  iiear  va- 

Pass  by,  hearing  not,  or  answer  not  a  womil 
And  we  hear  not  (for  the  wheels  in  their  rcsotulding) 

Strangers  speaking  at  the  door: 
Is  it  likely  God,  with  angela  Einging  round  Him, 

Heai5  our  weeping  any  moreP 

"Two  words,  indeed,  of  praying  we  remember. 

And  at  midnight's  hour  of  harm, 
'Our  Father,'  looking  iqnvard  in  the  chamber. 

We  say  softly  for  a  charm. 
We  ianw  no  other  words  except  'Our  Father,' 
And  we  thiuk  thai,  in  some  pause  of  angeis'  song. 


The  Cry  of  the  Children  287 

God  may  pluck  them  with  the  sQence  sweet  to  gather. 
And  hold  both  within  his  right  hand  which  is  strong. 
'Our  Father!'  If  He  heard  us,  He  would  surely 

(For  they  call  Him  good  and  mild) 
Answer,  smiling  down  the  steep  world  very  purely, 
'  Come  and  rest  with  me,  my  child.' 

"But  no!"  say  the  children,  weeping  faster, 

"He  is  speechless  as  a  stone; 
And  they  tell  us,  of  His  image  is  the  master 

Who  commands  us  to  work  on. 
Go  to!"  say  the  children, — "Up  in  Heaven, 

Dark,  wheel-like,  turning  clouds  are  all  we  find. 
Do  not  mock  us;  grief  hss  made  us  unbeUeving:      • 

We  look  up  for  God,  but  teara  have  made  us  Wind." 
Do  you  hear  the  childrep  weeping  and  disproving, 

O  my  brothers,  what  ye  preach? 
For  God's  possible  is  taught  by  His  world's  loving, 

And  the  children  doubt  of  each. 

And  well  may  the  children  weep  before  y»ul 

They  look  up,  with  their  pale  and  sunken  facts,     ■! 

And  their  look  is  Hread  to  see. 
For  they  mind  yon  of  tfadr  angds  in  high  places,    <. 

With  eyes  turned  on  Deity. 
"How  long,"  they  say,  "bow  long,  O  cruel  nation, 

Win  you  stand,  to  move  the  world,  on  a  ebild'S  heart,- 
Stifie  down  with  a  waiitA  hed  its  palpitation, 
And  tiead  onward  to  your  throne  amid  the  mart? 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Our  blood  splashes  upward,  O  gold-heaper, 
And  your  purple  shows  your  paLh; 

But  the  diLld's  sob  in  the  ^ence  curses  deeper 
Than  the  strong  man  in  his  wrath!" 

Etimbelh  Barrett  Broiviiing  [1S0&-1S61] 

Why  do  lie  wheels  go  whining  round. 

Mother,  mother? 
Ok,  mother,  are  they  giants  bound, 

A  nd  wilt  they  growl  forever? 
Yes,  fiery  giants  underground. 

Daughter,  little  daughter. 
Forever  turn  the  wheels  around, 

And  rumble-grumble  ever. 
Why  do  I  pick  the  threads  alh  day. 

Mother,  mother? 
While  sunshine  children  are  at  play? 

And  must  I  work  forever? 
Yes,  shadow-child;  the  live-long  day, 

Daughter,  little  daughter. 
Your  hands  must  pick  the  threads  away, 

And  feel  the  sunshine  never. 
Why  do  the  birds  sing  in  the  sun, 

Mother,  mother? 
If  all  day  long  I  run  and  run, 

Run  with  the  wheels  fornerf 
The  birds  may  sing  till  day  is  done. 

Daughter,  little  daughter, 
But  with  the  wheels  your  feet  must  run- 
Run  with  the  wheeb  forever. 
Why  do  I  feel  so  tired  each  niffit. 

Mother,  mother? 
The  wheels  are  always  frxssnt;  brig^ 

Do  they  grow  sleepy  «b9v? 
Oh,  baby  thing,  so  soft  and  white. 

Daughter,  little  dau^ter. 
The  big  wheels  grind  us  in  their. might. 

And  they  will  grind  foKver. 


-  MotW  Wept  3S9 

And  is  Ae  white  tkrea4  never  spun. 

Mother,  mother? 
And  M  the  HiA»te  clolh  netsr  done, 

For  you  and  me  done  neoerf 
Oti,  yes,  our  thread  will  all  be  ^va, 

Daughter,  little  dau^ter, 
When  we  lie  down  out  m  the  sun, 
■  And  work  no  more  forever, 

A  nd  when  wiil  come  that  happy  day. 

Mother,  molhert 
Oh,  shall.vx  laugh  and  sing  and  play 

Out  in  the  sun  forever f 
Nay,  shadow-child,  we'll  rest  all  day. 

Daughter,  little  daughter. 
Where  green  grass  grows  ajid  roses  gay. 

There  in  the  sun  forever. 

Harriet  Monroe  [lifxr- 


MOXHEK  wept,  and  father  »ghed;  . 

With  delight  aglow 
Cried  the  lad,  "To-morrow,"  cried, 

"To  the  pit  I  go." 

Came  his  cronies;  some  to  gaze 
Wrapped  in  wonder;  some 

Free  with  counsel;  some  with  praise: 
Some  with  envy  dumb. 


Poems  of  Youtfl  Md  Age 


So  nigh  is  gnndeui  to  our  diiat, 

So  near  is  Cod  U>  man, 
When  Duty  whi^^ere  low,  "Thou  must," 

The  youth  replies,  "  I  can." 

Ralph  Waldt  EmCTsoH  titoj-i88i| 



Oft  I  had  heard  of  Lucy  Gray: 

And,  when  I  crossed  the  wild, 
I  chanced  to  see,  at  break  of  day. 

The  solitary  child. 

No  mate,  no  comrade  Lucy  knew; 

She  dwelt  oti  a  wide  moor. 
The  sweetest  thing  that  ever  grew 

Beside  a  bum»i  (toori    : 

You  yet  may  spy  the  fawn  at  play, 

The  hare  upon  the  green; 
But  the  sweet  face  of  Lucy  Gray 

Will  never  more  be  seen. 

"To-night  will  be  a  stormy  night,— 

You  to  the  town  must  go; 
And  take  a  lantern.  Child,  to  light' 

Your  mother  through  the  snow." 

"That,  Father,  will  I  gladly  do;. 

Tis  scarcely  afternoon,:— 
The  minster-clock  has  just  struck  two. 

And  yonder  is  the  moon!" 

At  this  the  Father  raised  his  hook, 

And  snapped  a  fagot-brand. 
He  plied  his  work ;'  —and  Liicy  took 

The  laatem  in  her  hand. 

p.:hy  Google 

,   Lucy  Gray 

Not  blither  a  the  moiuitaiD  roe: 

Witb  many  a  wanton  stroke 
Her  feet  disperse  the  powdery  snow. 

That  rises  up  lilte  smoke. 

The  stoim  came  on  before  its  time: 

She  wandered  up  and  down: 
And  many  a  hill  did  I^cy  climb: 

But  never  reached  the  town. 

The  wretched  parents  all  that  night 

Went  shouting  Ear  and  wfde; 
But  there  was  neither  sound  noi  sight 

To  serve  them  for  a  guide. 

At  daybreak  on  the  bill  they  stood 

That  overlooked  the  moor; 
And  thence  they  saw  the  bridge  of  wood,  ' 

A  furlong  from  their  door. 

They  wept, — and,  turning  homewsurd,  cried, 
"In  heaven  we  all  shall  meet;  " 

When  in  the  snow  the  mother  spied 
The  print  of  Lucy's  feet. 

Then  downwards  from  the  steep  hill's  edge 
They  tracked  the  footmarks  small: 

And  through  the  broken  hawthorn -hedge, 
And  by  the  low  stone-wali; 

And  then  an  open  field  they  crossed — 
The  marks  were  still  the  same — 

They  tracked  them  on,  nor  evpr  lost; 
And  to  the  bridge  they  came. 

They  followed  from  the  snowy  bank 

Those  footmarks,  oa^  by  one. 
Into  the  middle  of  the  plank; 

And  further  there  were  nonet 

p-hy  Google 

29'2"  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

—Yet  some  maintain  that  to  this  day 

She  is  a  living  child; 
That  you  may  see  sweet  Lucy  Gray 

Upon  the  lonesome  wild. 

O'er  rough  and  smooth  she  trips  along. 

And  never  looks  behind; 
And  sings  a  solitary  song 

That  whistles  in  the  wind. 

William  Wordsworth  I1770-18S0I 



Ous  doctor  had  called  in  another,  I  never  had  seen  him 

But  he  sent  a  chill  to  my  heart  when  I  saw  him  <nme  in  at 

the  door, 
Fresh  from   the  surgery-schools  of  France  and  of  other 

Harsh  red  hair,  big  voice,  big  chest,  big  merciless  hands ! 
Wonderful  cures  he  had  done,  0  yes,  but  Lhcy  said  too  of  him 
He  was  happier  using  the  knife  than  in  tryJog  to  e^e  the 

And  that  I  can  well  believe,  for  he  looked  so  coarse  and  so 

red,     , 
I  could  think  he  was  one  of  those  who  would  break  their 

jests  on  the  dead. 
And  mangle  the  living  dog  that  had  loved  liini  and  fawned 

at  his  knee- 
Drenched  with  the  hellish  oorali — that  ever  such. things 

should  be! 

Here  was  a  boy— I  am  sure  that  some  of  our  children'  would 

But  for  the  voice  of  love,  and  the  smile,  and  the  comforting 

eye—  "  ■' 

Here  was  a  boy  in  the  ward,  every  bone  seemed  out  of  its 

place — 
Cau^t  in  a  mill  and  crushed — it  was  fdl  but  a  hopeless  case: 

p  hyGoogle 

In  the  ChUdrew'a  ^Hospitfl  .2^ 

AihJ  he  handled  ium  gently  enough;  but  his  voice  and  his 

face  were  not  kind,  , 

And  ^t  wa$  bul:  a.  hopeless  casCj  he  had  seen  it  and  made  op 

his  mind, 
Ail4  If  said  to  me  roughly  "  The  lad  will  need  littje  mure  9f 

"AJ(  the  mOK  need,"  I  told  him,  "to  s^k  the  Lord  Jep(]s 

in  prayer; 
Tbey  arc.  all  His  childien  here,  and  I  pray  for  them  all  ^ 

my  own:" 
But  b£:  tinned  to  me,  "Ay,  good  woman,  caji  prayer  set,3 

broken  bone? " 
ThcD^e  muttered  halE  to  himself,  but  I  know  that  I  he^^d 

him  say, 
"All  very  well — but  the  good  Lord  Jesus  hafi  had  hif  day.". 

Had?  has  it  come?    It  has  only  dawned.    Il  will  come  by 

O,  how  could  I  serve  in  the  wards  if  tKe  hope  of  the  world 

were  a  he? 
How  could  i  bear  with  the  sights  and  the  loathsome  smells 

of  disease 
But  that  He  said  "  Ye  do  it  to  me,  whea  j^e  do  it  to  these  "? 

So  he  went.    Aiid,we  passed  to  this  ward  where  the  youngfr 

children  are  laid; 
Here  i^.the  cot  of  our  orphan,  our  darling,  our  meefi  lit(le 

Empty  you  see  just  now!    We  have  lost  her  who  loved  her 

Patient  of  pain,  though  as  quick  as  a  sensitive  plant  to.the 

Hers,  was   the   prettiest  prattle,   it  often   njoyed  me. to 

tears.  r 

ISita  was  the  gmtefuUest  heart  I  have  found  in  a  c^d^  of 

her  years—  ^ 

,  Nay.  yf>u,  riEiiiember  our  Emmie;  you  used  to  .send  hec  the 

flowers;  , 

Hoff  ^  would  smile  at  'em,  play  with  'em,  -talk  to  'em 

hours  after  hours! 


294  Poems  of  Youth  and  Agft 

They  that  can  wander  at  will  where  the  works  of  the  Lord 

are  revealed 
Little  guess  what  joy  can  be  got  from  a  cowslip  out  of  tfce 

Flowers  to  these  "  spirits  in  prison  "  are  aB  they  can  know  of 

the  spring, 
They  freshen  and  sweeten  the  wards  hlte  thS  waft  of  an 

angel's  wing; 
And  she  lay  with  a  flower  in  one  hand  and  her  tWn  hands 

crossed  on  her  breast — 
Wan,  but  as  pretty  as  heart  can  desire,  and  wc  thought  her 

at  rest; 
Quietly  sleeping— so  quiet,  our  doctor  said,  "Poor  little 

Nurse.  I  must  do  it  to-morrow:  she'll  never  Kve  Umm^  it, 

1  fear." 

I  walked  with  our  kindly  old  doctor  as  far  as  the  head  of  the 

Then  I  returned  to  the  ward;  the  child  didn't  seel  was  there. 

Never  since  I  was  nurse,  had  I  been  so  grieved  and  so  vexed! 
Emmie  had  heard  him.    Softly  she  called  from  her  cot  to 

the  next, 
"He  says  I  shall  never  live  through  it;  0  Annie,  what  shall 

I  do?" 
Annie  considered.    "If  I,"  said  the  wise  little  Annie,  "was 

I  should  ciy  to  the  dear  Lord  Jesus  to  help  me,  for,  Emmfe,    • 

you  see, 
It's  all  in  the  picture  there:  'Little  children  should  cottie  to 

(Meaning  the  print  that  you  gave  us,  I  find  that  it  alwa^ 

Our  children,  the  dear  Lord  Jesus  with  children  about  HSa 

"Yes,  and  I  will,"  said  Emmie,  "but  then  it  I  call- to  the 

.  Lord,, 
How  should  He  know  that  it's  me?  such  a  lot  of  beds  In  the 

p.:hy  Google 

In  the  Children's  Hospital  49^ 

That  was  a  puzzle  for  Annie.    Again  she  considered  and 

"Emmie,  you  put  out  youi  anus,  and  you  leave  'em  outside 

on  the  bed — 
The  Lord  has  so  much  to  see  to!  but,  Emmie,  you  tell  it  Him 

It's  the  little  girl  with  her  arms  lying  out,  on  the  counter- 

I  had  sat  three  nights  by  the  child — I  could  not  watch  her 

for  four — 
My  brain  had   begun   to  feel — I   felt  I  could  do  it  no 

That  was  my  sleeping-night,  but  I  thought  that  it  '^ever 

would  pass. 
There  was  a  thunderclap  once,  and  a  clatter  of  hail  on  the 

And  there  was  a  phantom  cry  that  I  heard  as  t  tossed 

The  motherless  bleat  of  a  lamb  in  the  storm  and  the  dark- 
ness without; 
My  sleep  was  broken  besides  with  dreams  of  the  dreadful 

And  fears  for  our  delicate  Erarote  who  scarce  wo^  escape 

with  her  life; 
Then  in  the  gray  of  the  morning  it  seemed  she  stood  by  me 

and  smiled. 
And  the  doctor  came  at  his  hour,  and  we  went  to  see  the 


He  had  brought  his  ghastly  tools:  we  believed  her  asleep 

Her  dear,  long,  lean,  little  arms  lying  out  on  the  counter- 

Say  that  Hb  day  is  done!  Ah,  why  ^ould  we  care  what  they 

The  Lord  of  the  children  had  heard  her,  and  Eitimie  had 
passed  away. 

A^td  DmnysoH  [)g&o-i8giI 

p:hy  Google 

Q.;)6  Po«m9  of  Youth  and  Age 


"If  I  were  dead,  you'd  sometimes  say,  Poof  ChBd! " 

The  dear  lips  quivered  as  ihey  spake, 

And  the  tears  brake 

From  eyes  which,  not  to  grieve  me,  brightly  smiled. 

Poor  Child,  poor  Child!  ' 

I  seem  to  hear  your  laugh,  your  talk,  your  song. 

It  is  not  true  that  Love  will  do  no  wrong. 

Poor  Child! 

And  did  you  think,  when  you  so  cried  and  smiled, 

How  I,  in  lonely  nights,  should  lie  awake, 

And  of  those  words  your  full  aveogers  make? 

Poor  Child,  poor  Child! 

And  now,  unless  it  be 

That  sweet  amends  thrice  told  are  come  to  thee, 

0  God,  have  Thou  no  mercy  upon  mc! 

Poor  ChQdt 

Coventry  Patmort  [r(hj-i8Q6| 


My  little  Son,  who  looked  from  thougblful  eyes 

And  moved  and  spoke  in  quiet  grown-up  wise, 

Having  my  law  the  seventh  l,ime  disobeyed, 

I  struck  him,  and  dismissed 

With  hard  words  and  unkisswl, 

— His  Mother,  who  was  patient,  being  dead. 

Then,  fearing  lest  his  grief  should  hinder  sleep, 

I  visited  his  bed. 

But  found  him  slumbering  deep. 

With  darkened  eyelids,  and  their  lashes  yet 

From  his  late  sobbing  wet. 

And  I,  with  moan, 

Kissing  away  his  tears,  left  others  of  my  own; 

For,  on  a  tabic  drawn  beside  his  head. 

He  had  put,  within  his  reach, 

A  box  of  counters  tind  a  red-veined  stone, 

A  piece  of  glass  abraded  by  the  beach. 


A  Song  of  Twilight 

ingcd  there  with  careful  art, 

An  toys 


How  weakly  underatood 

Thy  great  cominanded  good, 

Then,  fatherly  not  less 

Than  I  whom  Thou  hast  moalded  from  the  day, 

Thoult  leave  Thy  wrath,  and  say, 

"1  will  be  sorry  for  their  childishness." 

Coventry  Patmorc  [1813-1896] 


Oa,  to  come  home  once  more,  when  the  dusk  is  falling, 
To  see  the  nursery  lighted  and  the  children's  table  spread; 

"Mother,  mother,  mother!"  the  eager  voices  calling, 
"The  baby  was  so  sleepy  that  he  had  to  go  to  bed!" 

Oh,  to  come  home  once  more,  and  see  the  smiling  faces, ' 
Dark  head,  bright  head,  clustered  at  the  pane; 

Much  the  years  have  taken,  when  the  heart  its  path  retraces, 
But  until  thne  is  not  for  me,  the  image  will  remain. 

Men  and  women  now  they  are,  standing  straight  and  steady, 
Grave  heart,  gay  heart,  fit  for  life's  emprise; 

Shoulder  set  to  shoulder,  how  should  they  be  but  ready! 
The  future  shines  before  them  with  the  Ught  of  their  own 

Still  each  answers  to  my  call;  no  good  has  been  denied  me, 
My  burdens  have  been  fitted  to  the  little  strength  that's 

Beauty,  pride  and  peace  have  walked  by  day  beside  me, 
The  evening  doses  gently  in,  and  how  can  I  repine? 

p:hy  Google 

298  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

But  ok,  to  see  once  more,  vihen  the  early  dusk  is  falling. 
The  nursery  windrnvs  glmomg  and  the  children's  table  spread; 

"Mother,  mother,  motherl "  the  high  child-voices  calling, 
" He  coiAdn'l  stay  awake  for  you,  he  had  to  go  U>  bed! " 



The  little  toy  dog  is  covered  with  dust. 

But  sturdy  and  stanch  he  stands; 
And  the  little  toy  soldier  is  red  with  nist, 

And  his  musket  moulds  in  his  hands. 
Time  was  when  the  little  toy  dog  was  new. 

And  the  soldier  wa^  passing  fair; 
And  that  was  the  time  when  our  little  Boy  Blue 

Kissed  them  and  put  them  there- 

"Now,  don't  you  go  till  I  come,"  he  said, 

"And  don't  you  make  any  noisel" 
So,  toddling  off  to  his  trundle-bed. 

He  dreamt  of  the  pretty  toys; 
And,  as  he  was  dreaming,  an  angel  song 

Awakened  our  Little  Boy  Blue — 
Oh!  the  years  are  many,  the  years  arc  lonfe 

But  the  little  toy  friends  are  true! 

Ay,  faithful  to  Little  Boy  Blue  they  stand, 

Each  ia  the  same  old  place, 
Awaiting  the  touch  of  a  Uttle  hand. 

The  smile  of  a  little  face; 
And  they  wonder,  as  waiting  the  long  years  through 
'     In  the  dust  of  that  little  chair, 
What  has  become  of  our  Little  Boy  Blue. 
Since  he  kissed  them  and  put  them  there. 

EHgate  Field  (iSfo-iSgg) 


I  HAVE  A  liule  kinsman 

Whose  earthly  summers  are  but  three. 

And  yet  a  voyager  is  he 

Greater  tben  Dcake  or  Fiobisher, 


The  piscGivercr 

Than  all  tbeii  peers  togetherl 
He  is  a  brave  discoverer, 
And,  far  beyond  the  tethet 
Of  them  who  seek  the  frozen  Fol^     , 
Has  sailed  where  the  noiseless  surges  nJL 
Ay,  be  has  travelled  whither 
A  winged  pilot  steered  his  bark 
Through  the  portals  of  the  dark, 
Past  hoary  Mimir's  well  and  tree, 
Across  the  unknowiMea. 

Suddenly,  in  his  fair  young  hour. 
Came  one  who  bore  a  flower. 
And  laid  it  in  his  dimpled  hand 

With  this  command; 
"Henceforth  thou  art  a  roverl 
Thou  must  make  a  voyage  far, 
Sail  beneath  the  evening  star,  . 
And  a  wondrpus  land  discover." 
— With  his  sweet  smile  innocent 

Our  Uttie  kinsman  went. 

Since  that  time  no  word 

From  the  absent  has  been  heard.       , 

Who  can  tell  j 

How  he  fares,  or  answer  we^ 
What  the  little  one  has  found 
Since  he  left  us,  outward  Iwund?   . 
Would  that  he  might  return! 
Then  should  we  learn 
From  the  pricking  of  his  chart 
How.  the  skyey  roadways  part,       .  -; 
Hush!  does  not  the  baby  this  way  bring. 
To  lay  befdde  this  severed  cuil. 

Some  starry  ofiering 
Of  chrysotite  oi  pearl? 

Ah,.aoI.  not  sol 
We  may  follow  M)  his  track, 

But hq Fomes not ba^k,  .         i- 


3bO  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

,  And  yet  I  dare  aver 

He  is  a  brave  discoverer 
Of  dimes  his  elders  do  not  know. 
He  has  more  learning  than  appears 
On  the  scroll  of  twice  three  thousand  years, 
More  than  in  the  groves  is  taUght, 
Or  from  furthest  Indies  brought; 
He  knows,  perchance,  how  spirits  fare, — 
Whai  shapes  the  angels  wear. 
What  is  theiT  guise  and  speech 
In  those  lands  beyond  our  reach, — 
And  his  eyes  behold 
Things  that  shall  never,  never  be  to  mortal  hearers  told. 
Edmund  Clarence  Sledimm  |i6i3-igo&] 


My  little  MSdchcn  found  one  day 
A  curious  something  in  her  play. 
That  was  riot  fruit,  nor  flower,  nor  seed; 
It  was  not  anything  that  grew. 
Or  crept,  or  climbed,  or  swam,  or  flew; 
Had  neither  legs  nor  wings,  indeed; 
And  yet  she  was  not  sure,  she  said. 
Whether  it  was  alive  or  dead. 

She  brought  in  her  tiny  hand 
To  see  if  I  would  understand. 
And  wondered  when  I  made  reply,'     ' 
"You've  found  a  baby  butterfly." 
"A  butterfly  is  not  like  this," 
With  doubtful  look  she  answered  me. 
So  then  I  told  her  what  would  be 
Some  day  within  the  chryaalis; 
How,  slowly,  in  the  dull  brown  thing 
Now  still  as  death,  a  spotted  wing,'   ' 
And  then  another,  would  unfold, 
Till  from  the  empty  shell  wwdd  fly 
A  pretty  creature,  by  and  by, 
All  radiant  in  blue  and  gold. 


Mater  Dolprosa 

"And  will  it,  tnily?"  questioned  she- 



To-day  the  butterfly  has  flown, — 
She  waa  not  here  to  see  it  fly, — 
And  sorrowing  I  wonder  why 
The  tf^ty.  shcU  ia^m^ie  ^qno. 
Perhaps  the  secret  lies  in  this; 
I  too  had  found  a  cbryBalis,  ■       r    - 
And  Death  that  robbed  me  of  (Wigjit   ; 
Was  but  the  radiant  creature's  flight! 

Mary  EmUySr^HtB itSsi-i 


I'd  a  dream  to-night 

As  I  fell  asleep, 
0!  the  touching  Bight 

Makes  me  still  to  weep: 
Of  my  little  lad. 
Gone  to  leave  nje  sad,  , 
Ay,  the  child  I  had, 

But  was  not  to  ke^.. 

As  in  heaven  high, 
1  my  child  did  seek, 

Tbere  in  train  came  by 
Children  fair  and  meek, 

Each  in  lily  white. 

With  a  lamp  alight; 

Each  was  dear  to  aght, 
But  they  did  not  speak. 

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'joi  poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Then,  a  little  sad, 
Came  my  child  in  turn, 

Butthelamphehad,         '    ' 
O  it  did  not  bum!    ' 

He,  to  clear  my  doubt,  ' 

Said,  half-turned  about, 

"Your  tears  put  it  out; 
Mother,  never  mourd." 

Wiliutm  Barnes  tiBoi- 


The  aUrs  began  to  pee?" 

Gone  iras  the  bitter  day. 
She  beavd-the  milky  ewes  v 

Bleat  to  their  kuito  astray. 
Her  heart  cried  (or  her  lamb 

L^ped  cold  in  the  churchyard  sod. 
She  could  not  think  on  the  happy  children 

At  play  wiih  the  LUnb  of  God. 

She  heard  the  caTKng  ewes  ' 

And  the  lambs'  answer,  alas! 
She  heard  her  heart's  blood  drip  in  the  night 

As  the  ewes'  milk  on  the  grass. 
Her  tears  that  I>urnt  like  fire  ' 

So  bitter  and  slow  ran  down 
She  could  not  think  on  the  new-washed  children 

Playing  by  Mary's  gown. 

Oh  who  is  this  comes  in 

Over  her  threshold  stone? 
And  why  is  the  old  dog  wild  with  joy 

Who  all  day  long  made  moan? 
This  fair  little  radiant  ghost, 

Her  one  little  son  of  seven. 
New  'scaped  from  the  band  of  merry  children 

In  the  nurseries  of  Heaven. 


Motherhood  ^3 

He  was  all  dad  in  wbhe 

mthant  a  speck  or  EtaJn; 
Wi  ciirls  bad  a  ling  of  U^t 

That  rose  and  fell  again. 
"How  come  with  me,  myiown  motker, 

And  ytni'^Mll  have  great  ease,  1 

For  you  riioll  see  tbe  Ion  diildim     ..     :l 

Oatliered  ta  Mary's  knees."  '  I 

Oh,  li^itly  sprang  she  up    ,  .     .' 

Nor  waked  bee  sleeping  noan,  ■ 
And  hand  in  band  with  the  little  ghost  ,. 

ThiDogb  tbedarimt^tahejac.     .,t 
She  b  gone  swift  as  a  fawn,  j  ,  . 

As  a  bird  homes  to  its  nest, 
She  has  seen  them  lie,  tbf  sleepy  chUdretl 

Twijtt  Maiy's  arm  and  breast,  1 

At  morning  she  came  back; 

Her  eyes  were  strange  to  see. 
She  will  not  fear  the  long  journey, 

However  long  it  be. 
As  she  goes  in  and  out  . . 

She  sings  unto  here^l'; 
For  she  has  seen  the  mothers'  duldoea    , 

And  knows  that  it  is  well. 

Kalharinc  Tynan  (iSfi;- 


The  night  throbs  on;  ,0,  Id  me  pray,  dear  lad! 
Crush  off  his  name  a  moment  from  my  mouth.     . 
To  Thee  my  eyes  would  turn,  but  they  go  back, 
Back  to  my  arm  beside  me,  where  he  lay — 
So  little.  Lord,  so  Uttlo  imd  so  w«m,! 

I  camwt  tbink  tbat  Than  badst  need  of  bimrl ' 
He  was  so  little,  Lord,  be  cannot  sing, 
He  aaaot  praise  Tbce;  all  his  life  badkandid 
Was  to  hoU  fast  my  kiasa  in  the  ni^. 

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i  3P4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Give  him  to  me — tie  is  not  happy  tbscel 
He  had  not  felt  this  lite;  his  lovely  eyw 
Just  knew  me  for  his  mother,  and  he  dift(. 

Hast  Thou  an  angel  there  to  mothec  blni? 
I  say  he  loves  me  best — if  he  forgets, 
If  Thou  allow  it  that  my  child  forgets 
And  runs  not  out  to  meet  me  when  I  came — 

What  are  my  curses  to  Thee?    Thou  hast  heard 
The  curse  of'  Abel's  mother,  and  since  then 
We  have  not  ceased  to  threaten  at  Thy  (hrone, 
To  threat  and  pray  Thee  that  Thou  hold  them  stiU 
In  memory  of  us. 

See  Thou  tend  him  well, 
Thou  God  of  all  the  mothere.    If  he  lack 
One  of  his  kisses — ah.  my  heart,  my  heart, 
Do  angels  kiss  in  heaven?   Give  him  ba<k! 

Forgive  me,  Lord,  but  I  am  sick  with  grief. 
And  tired  of  tears,  and  cold  to  comforting. 
Thou  art  wise,  1  know,  and  tender,  aye,  and  good, 
Thou  hast  my  child,  and  he  is  safe  in  Thee, 
And  I  believe — 

Ah,  God,  my  child  shall  go 
Orphaned  among  the  angels!    All  alone. 
So  little  and  alonel    He  knows  not  Thee, 
He  only  knows  his  mother — give  him  Itack. 

JoHphinc  Daskam  Baren  [lSj6- 


Tte  good  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  has  tafcea  (n>Di:me, 
Blessed  be  His  name.  His  holy  will  bo  done. 

Hie  tDouniers  all  have  gone,  all  save  I,  Jm  mother. 
The  little  ginve  Uea  lonely  in  the  sun. 

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The  Mother's  Prayer_  ,305 

Kay!  I  would  not  follow,  though  they  did  beseech  tne, 
For  the  angels  come  now  waiting  for  my  dead. 

Heaven's  dour  is'opeia,'BO  my  wltiapera  soar  tfaore, 
miile  the  gentle  angels  lift  him  from  his  bed. 

Oh  Lord,  when  Thou  gavest  he  was  wcai,  and  helpless, 
Could  not  rise  nor  wander  from  my  shielding  arm; 

Lovely  is  he  now  and  strong  with  four  sweet  summers, 
laughing,  mjiniag,  tumbling,  hard  to  keep  from  harm. 

!f  some  tender  mother,  whose  babe  on  earth  is  living. 
Takes  his  little  hand  to  guide  his  stranger  feet 

'Hid  the  countless  hosts  that  cross  the  floor  of  heaven, 
Thou  wilt  not  reprove  her  for  Thy  pity  sweet. 

If  upon  her  b 

All  his  gold 
Laughing  let  1 

Long  and  li 

\^'ilful  are  his  ways  and  full  of  merry  misduef ; ' 

If  he  prove  unruly,  lay  the  blame  on  mc. ' 
Never  did  1  chide  him  for  his  noise  or  riot, 

Smiled  upon  his  folly,  glad  his  joy  to  see.  ' 

Each  eve  shall  I  come  beside  hia  bed  so  Unrly; 

"Hush-a-by,  my  baby,"  softly  shiH  1  sing, 
So.  if  he  be  frightened,  full  of  deep  and  anger, 

The  song  he  loved  rfiaJl  reach  him  and  aire  olmfort  bring. 

Lord,  if  in  my  praying.  Thou  shouHst  hear  me  weeping, 

Ever  was  I  wayii-ard,  always  full  ol  tears, 
Take  no  heed  of  this  grief.    Sweet  the  gift  Thou  gavest 

AH  the  cherished  treasure  of  those  golden  years. 

Do  not,  therefore,  hold  me  to  Thy  will  ungrateful: 
Soon  I  shall  stand  upright,  smiling,  strong,  apd  brave, 

ftjth  a  son  in  heaven  the  sad  earth  forgelting, 
But  'tis  lonely  yet.  Lord,  by  the  little  grave. 
Oh,  'tis  lonely,  lonely,  by  the  litUc  grave! 

Dorii  Sigerson  Shorter  |iS    - 


'  2o6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Da  s[H«eogee8COin';butoh,  da.' jay 
Eet  ees  too  late! 

He  was  so  cold,  my  leetla  boy, 

He  no  could  wait. 
I  no  can  count  how  manny  week, 
How  manny  day,  dat  he  ees  seeck; 
How  manny  night  I  sect  an'  hold 
Da  leetla  hand  dat  was  so  cold. 
He  was  so  patience,  oh,  so  sweet! 
Eet  hurts  my  throat  for  thecnk  of  eet; 
An'  all  he  evra  ask  ees  w'en 
Ees  gona  com'  da  spreeng  agen. 


Of — w  'at-you-call? — foi^t-me-not. 
So  smalla  flower,  so  leetla  theeng! 
But  steell  eet  mak'  bees  hearta  seeng: 
"Oh,  now,  at  las',  ees  com'  da  spreengi 
Da  leetla  plant  ees  glad  for  know 
Da  sun  ees  com'  for  mak'  eet  grow. 
So,  too,  J  am  grow  warm  and  strong." 
So  Uka  dat  he  seeng  hees  Mag. 
But,  &h!  da  night  com'  dowo  on'  den 
Da  wecnter  ees  sneak  back  agen, 
An'  een  da  alley  al!  da  night 
Ees  fall  da  snow,  so  cold,  so  white, 
An'  cover  up  da  leetla  pot 
Of — w'at-you-call  ?— f oi^t-me-not. 
All  night  da  leetla  hand  I  hold 
Ees  grow  so  cold,  so  cold,  so  cold! 
Da  spreeng  ees  com';  but," oh,  da  joy 

Eet  ees  too  late! 
He  was  so  cold,  my  leetla  boy, 

He  no  could  wait. 

Tkomas  Auguititi  Daly  {1871- 


Epitaph  of  Dionysia'  ' 
ON  THE  MOOR      ., 

I  UET  a  child  upon  (he  Tioor 
A-wadiog  4owB  the  heather;     ,:, 

She  put  her  hand  into  my  own,  ,  , 
We  cjxwsed  the  fields^togethe^.:./ 

I  led  her  to  her  father's  door-^  '  ' 
A  cottage  midst  the  clover.    ,     , 

I  left  her— and  the  world  grew  popr 
To  rafi,  a  cbildle^  rover. 

COM  t  outtg  Kue  iiS?^ 

Heee  doth  Dionysia  lie: 

She  whose  little  wanton  foot, 
Tripping  (ah,  too  carelessly!) 
Touched  this  tomb,  and  fellinto  't. 


3o8  Poems  of  Youth  and  _Age 

Trip  no  more  shall  she,  nor  fall. 
And  her  tri^jpii^  were  so  few! 
Summers  only  eight  in  all 
Had  the  sweet  child  wandered  throu^. 

But,  already,  h'fe's  few  9uns 
Love's  strong  seeds  had  ripened  wann. 
All  her  ways  were  winning  ones'; 
All  her  cunning  was  to  charm. 

And  the- fancy,  in  the  flower. 
While  the  flesh  was  in  the  bud. 
Childhood's  dawning  sex  did  dower 
With  wann  gusts  of  womanhood. 

Oh  what  joys  by  hope  begun, 
Oh  what  kisses  kissed  by  thought. 
What  love-deeds  by  fancy  done, 
Death  to  endless  dust  hath  wronght! 

Had  the  fates  been  kind  as  thou. 
Who,  till  now,  was  never  cold. 
Once  Love's  aptcst  scholar,  ;iow 
Thou  hadsl  been  hb  teacher  bold; 

But,  if  buried  seeds  upthrow 

Fruits  and  flowers;  if  flower  and  fruit 

By  their  nature  filly  show 

What  the  seeds  are,  whence  they  shoot, 

Dionysia,  o'er  this  tomb, 
Where  thy  buried  beauties  be. 
From  their  dust  shall  spring  and  bloom 
Loves  and  graces  like  to  thee.     , 



The  night  is  late,  the  house  is  still; 
The  angeb  of  the  hour  fuliil 
Their  tender  ministries,  and  move 
,  From  couch  to  couch  in  cares  of  love. 


For  Charlie's  Sake 

to  make 

harlie's  sake." 
le  strain. 
And  gives  it  to  the  night  agoia, 
Fitted  with  words  of  lowly  praise, 
And  patience  learned  of  mournful  days, 
And  memories  of  the  dead  child's  ways. 
HJB  will  be  done,  His  will  be  doncl 
Viho  gave  and  took  away  my  son,         .  i 
In  "the  far  land"  to  shine  and  sing 
Before  the  Beautiful,  the  King, 
Who  every  day  doth  Christmas  make, 
All  starred  and  belled  for  Chariie's  sake. 
For  Charlie's  sake  I  will  arise; 
I  will  anoint  me  where  he  lies. 
And  change  my  raiment,  and  go  in 
To  the  Lord's  house,  and  leave  my  sin 
Without,  and  seat  me  at  his  board. 
Eat,  and  be  glad,  and  praise  the  Lord. 
For  wherefore  should  1  fast  and  weep. 
And  sullen,  moods  of  mourning  keep? 

ith  did  sign, 
;'3  sake,  and  mine, 
ader  stone 
'Ad  I  own; 

in,  I  tin 
that  precious  hillj 

And,  hopeful,  wait  the  latter  rains;' 
Content  if,  after  all,  the  spot 
Yield  barely  one  forget-me-not — 
WTielher  or  figs  or  thistles  make 
My  crop,  content  for  Charlie's  sake. 

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?io  Poems  of  Youth  and  /Vge 

Nor  ever  is  its  stillnesG  Gtirred 

By  purr  of  cat,  or  chirp  of  bird. 

Or  mother's  twilt^t  legend,  told  I 

Of  Homer'b  pie,  or  Tiddler's  gold. 

Or  fairy  hobbling  to  the  door. 

Red-cloaked  and  weird,  banned  and  poori 

To  bless  the  good  child's  gradous  eyes,    ' 

The  good  child's  wistful  charities, 

And  crippled  changeling's  hunch  to  iiiak6 

Dance  on  his  crutch,  for  good  child's  sakt. 

How  is  it  with  the  child?    Tis  well; 

Nor  would  I  any  miracle 

Might  stir  my  sleeper's  tranquil  trance, 

Or  plague  his  painless  countenance: 

I  would  not  any  seer  mi^t  place 

His  staff  on  my  immortal's  face. 

Or  lip  to  lip,  and  eye  to  eye, 

Charm  back  his  pale  mortalily. 

No,  Shunamitc!    I  would  not  break 

God's  stillness.    Let  them  weep  who  wake. 


'*Are  the  Children  at  Home?" 

Eacb  day,  whea  the  glow  of  sunset  , 

Fades  ia  the  westero  sky, 
And  the  wee  ones,  tired  of  playing, 

Go  tnpping  Ughtly  by, 
I  steal  away  fmn  my  husband. 

Asleep  in  his  easy-chaii;. 
And  watch  fvom  the  open  doorway 

Iheir  faces  fresh  and  fair. 
Alone  in  the  dear  old  homestead 

That  once  was  full  of  life, 
Ringing  with  girlish  laughter. 

Echoing  boyish  strife, 
We  two  are  waiting  together; 

And  oft,  as  the  shadows  come, 
With  tremulous  voice  he  calls  me, 

"It  is  night!  are  the  children  home?" 
"Yes,  lovel"  I  answer  him  gently, 

"They're  all  home  long  ago;" —  ■ 
And  I  sing,  in  my  quivering  treble) 

A  song  so  soft  and  low, 
im  the  old  man  drops  to  slumber, 

With  his  bead  upon  his  hand, 
And  I  tell  to  myself  the  number 

At  home  in  the  better  land. 
At  home,  where  never  a  sorrow 

Shall  dim  their  eyes  with  teanil 
Where  the  smile  of  God  is  on  them  ' 

Through  aH  the  summer  years  I 
I  know, — ^yet  my  arms  arc  empty, 

That  fondly  folded  seven, 
And  the  mother-heart  within  me 

Is  almost  starved  for  heaven. 

Sometimes,  in  the  dusk  of  eyemog, 

I  only  shut  my  eyes. 
And  the  children  arc  all  about  me, 

A  vi^ou  from  the  skies: 

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JT2  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age' 

The  babts  whose  dimploJ  fingws 
Lost  the  way  to  my  lireaat, 

And  the  beautiful  ones,  the  angt-ls, 
Passed  to  the  world  of  the  blest. 

With  never  a  eloud  upon  them, 

I  see  their  radiant  brows; 
My  boys  that  I  gave  to  freedom, — 

The  red  sword  sealed  their  vows! 
In  a  tangled  Southern  forest, 

Twin  brothers  bold  and  brave. 
They  fell;  and  the  flag  they  died  /or, 

Thank  God!  floats  over  their  grave. 

A  breath,  and  the  vision  is  lifted 

Away  on  wings  of  light, 
And  again  wc  two  arc  together. 

All  alone  in  the  night. 
They  tell  me  his  mind  is  failing;, 

But  I  smile  at  idle  fears; 
He  is  only  back  with  the  children, 

In  the  dear  and  peaceful  yeare. 

And  still,  as  the  summer  sunset 

Fades  away  in  the  west, 
And  the  wee  ones,  tired  of  playing, 

Go  trooping  home  to  rest, 
My  husband  calls  from  his  corner, 

"Say,  love,  have  the  children  come?" 
And  I  answer,  with  eyes  uplifted, 

"Yes,  dear!  they  are  all  at  home. " 

ifargarcl  Satigsler  ,l\S3S- 


We  wreathed  about  our  darling 's  hcbd 

The  morning-glory  bright; 
Her  little  face  looked  out  beneath. 

So  full  of  life  and  light. 


The  Mornihg-Glorjf    '  i^\^ 

So  lit  ao  mth  a  simdK, 

That  we  onild  only  eay,  j 

"She  is  iJie  nraming-^ory  true, 

And  hM  poor  types  are  titty." 

So  always  from  that  happy  tiim   .. 

We  caHedier  by  their  name,      ■ 
And  very  £ttiiig  did  it  seem— 

For,  sure  as  morning  came, 
Behind  h&t  cradle  bare  she  snnled 

To  catch  the  first  faint  ray, 
As  from  the  trellis  smiles  the  flower 

And  opens  to  the  day. 

But  not  so  bcButiiul  they  tear 

Their  airy  cups  of  blue,   ■  ■    ' 

As  turned  her  sweet  eyes  to  tht  li{^t. 

Brimmed  with  sleep's  tender  dew; 
And  not  so  close  their  tendrils  fine 

Round  their  supports  arc  thrown. 
As  those  dear  arms  whose  outstretched  plea 

Clasped  all  hearts  to  her  own. 

We  used  to  think  how  she  had  come, 

Even  as  comes  the  flower, 
The  last  and  perfect  added  gift 

■  TocrowTi  Love's  morning  hour;      . 
And  bow  in  her  was  imaged  forth  , 

The  love  we  could  not  say, 
As  on  the  little  dewdrops  round 

Shines  back  the  heart  of  day. 

We  never  could  have  thought,  O  God, 

That  she  must  wither  up,. 
Almost  before  a  day  was  flown,       i 

Lite  the  morning-glory's  cup; 
We  newer  thought  to  Bee  her  droop ,  '. 

Her  fair  and  noble  he»d, 
TIB  she  lay  stretelied  befcve  our  eyes; 

W9ted.  and  cold,  and  dmdl 


3^4  Poems  of  Youth. and  Age 

The  moming-glMy'B  bloasomjag 

Will  soon  be  coming  nHind— 
We  see  (he  rows  oi  heart-shaped  kftves 

Upspringing  from  the  ground; 
The  tender  things  the  winter  killed 

Renew  again  their  birth. 
But  the  glory  of  our  morning 

Has  passed  away  from  earth. 

O  Earthl  in  vain  our  aching  ^ee 

Stretch  over  thy  green  plain! 
Too  harsh  thy  dews,  too  gross  thine  air 

Her  spirit  to  sustain; 
But  up  in  groves  of  Paradise 

Full  surely  we  shall  see 
Our  morning-glory  beautiful 

Twine  round  our  dear  Lord's  knee. 

Maria  WhiU  LcwU  [1811-1855] 


As  a  twig  trembles,  which  a  bird 
Lights  on  to  sing,  then  leaves  unbent, 

So  is  my  memory  thrilled  and  stirred; — 
I  only  know  she'  came  and  went. 

As  clasps  some  lake,  by  gusts  unriven. 
The  blue  dome's  measureless  content. 

So  my  soul  held  that  moment's  heaven; — 
I  only  know  she  came  and  went. 

As,  at  one  bound,  our  swift  spring  heaps 
The  orchards  full  of  bloom  and  scent, 

So  clove  her  May  my  wintry  sle^M;— 
I  only  know  she  came  and  went. 

An  angel  stood  and  met  my  gaze, 
Through  the  low  doorway  of  my  tent; 

Hie  tent  is  struck,  the  viaon  stays?— 
I  only  know  she  came  and  wont. 


'The  First  Sn6W-faII     I  315 

Oh,  when  the  room  grows  stewly  dimj  ' 

And  life's  last  oil  is  nearly  spent; 
One  gush  of  light  these  eyes  will  briih',  ■ 

Only  to  think  she  came  and  went.- 

James  Russell  Lmetll  [1819-1891] 

THE  FIRST  SNOW-FALL  '■      ■ ' 

The  snow  had  begun  in  the  gloaming, 

And  busily  all  the  night 
Had  been  heaping  fidd  and  highway 
■     With  a  silence  deep  and  white.  1 

Every  pine  and  fir  and  hemlock 
Wore  ennine  too  dear  for  an  earl. 

And  the  poorest  twig  on  the  elm-tree 
Was  ridged  inch  deep  with  pearl. 

From  sheds  new-roofed  with  Carrara 
Came  Chanticleer's  muffled  crow, 

The  stiff  rails  softened  to  swan's-down. 
And  still  fluttered  down  the  snow. 

I  stood  and  watched  by  the  window* 
The  noiseless  work  of  the  sky, 

And  the  sudden  flurries  of  snow-birdB, 
Like  brown  leaves  whirling  by. 

I  thought  of  a  mound  in  sweet  Anbiim 

Where  a  little  headstone  stood; 
How  the  flakes  were  folding  ft  gently, 

Again  I  looked  at  the  snow-fall,  ' 
And  thought  of  the  leaden  sky 

That  arched  o'er  our  first  great  sorrow, 
When  that  mound  Was  heaped  ao  high. 

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gl^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  remembered  the  gradual  patience        ^ 
That  fell  from  that  cloud  like  snow, 

Flake  by  flake,  heaUng  and  hiding 
The  Bcar  that  renewed  our  woe. 

And  again  to  the  child  I  whispered, 

"The  snow  that  husheth  all, 
Darting,  the  merciful  Father 

Alone  can  make  it  fall!" 

Then,  with  eyes  that  saw  not,  I  kissed  her; 

And  she,  kissing  back,  could  not  kmijw 
That  my  kiss  was  given  to  her  sister, , 

Folded  close  under  deepening  snow. 

Jamts  RhssM  Lm>M  (1819-1891] 


A  smpLE  Child, 

That  lightly  draws  its  breath, 

■  And  feels  its  lite  in  every  limb. 

What  should  it  know  of  death? 

I  met  a  little  cottage  Girl: 

She  was  eight  years  old,  she  saidi 

Her  hair  was  thick  with  many  a  cud 
That  clustered  round  her  head. 

She  had  a  rustic,  woodland  air. 

And  she  was  wildly  dad: 
Her  eyes  were  fair,  and  very  fair; 
!       — Her  beauty  made  roe  glad.    , 

"Sisters  ajid  brothers,  little  Maid, 

How  many  may  you  be?" 
"How  many?    Seven  in  all,"  she  said, 

And  wondering  looked  at  me. 

"And  where  are  they?  I  pray  you, tell." 
She  answered,  "Seven  are  we;. 

And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 
And  two  are  gone  to  sea; 


"We  Are  Seven"        ■  j\^' 

"Two  of  us  in  the  church-yard  lie, 

My  sister  and  my  brother; 
And,  in  the  Church-yard  cottage,  I 

Dwell  near  them  With  my  mother." 

"You  say  that  two  at  Conway  dwell,  ' 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea. 
Yet  ye  are  seven!--!  pray  you  tell, 

Sweet  Maid,  how  this  may  be." 

Then  did  the  liltte  Maid  reply, 

"Seven  boys  and  girls  are  we; 
Two  of  us  in  the  church-yard  lie 

Beneath  the  church-yard  tree." 



"Their  graves  are  green,  they  may  be  seen," 

rhc  little  Maid  replied: 
"Twelve  steps  or  more  from  my  mother's  door, 

And  they  are  side  by  side. 

"My  stockings  there  I  often  knit, 

My  kerchief  there  I  hem; 
And  there  upon  the  ground' I  sit, 

And  s^  a  song  to  them. 

"And  often  after  sunset.  Sir, 

When  it  is  light  and  fair, 
I  take  raiy  little  porringer. 

And  eat  my  supper  there. 

"TTie  first  that  died  was  sister  Jarie; 

In  bed  she  moaning  lay. 
Tin  God  released  her  of  her  pain;  ' 

And  then  she  went  away. 

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3 1 8  Poems  of  Youth  an4  Age 

"So  io  the  chutch-yard  she  was  laid^ 
And,  when  the  grass  was  dry,  ^ ,  ; 

Together  round  her  grave  we  played, 
My  brother  Joha  and  I. 

"And  the  ground  was  white  with  snow. 
And  1  could  run  and  slide,  ,  ; 

My  brother  John  was  forced  to  go,  ,    / 

And  he  lies  by  her  side." 

"How  many  are  you,  then,"  said  I,  , 

"If  they  two  are  in  heaven?"  ,    . 

Quick  was  the  little  Maid's  reply,  , 

"0  Masterl  we  are  seven."  ' 

"But  they  are  dead;  those  two  are  deadi 

Their  spirits  are  in  heaven  1" 
'Twas  throwing  words  away;  for  still 
The  little  Maid  would  have  her  wiU, 

And  said,  "Nay,  we  are  seven!" 

Waiiam  Wordntmrtk  Ii7Jo-i8so] 


I  CANNOT  make  him  dead! 

His  fair  sunshiny  head 
Is  ever  bounding  round  my  study  chair; 

Yet  when  my  eyes,  now  dim 

With  tears,!  turn  to  him, 
The  vision  vanishes, — he  is  not  there  I 

I  walk  my  parlor  floor. 

And,  through  the  t^n  door,  ' 

I  hear  a  footfall  on  the  chamber  stair;  i 

I'm  stepping  toward  the  hail 

To  give  my  boy  a  call; 
And  then  bethink  me  that— he  is  not  ^haf^ 

I  thread  the  crowded  street;  , 

A  satchellcd  lad  I  meet, 

p  hyGoogle 

My  ChiJd  3 

With  the  same  beaming  eyes  and  colored  hak; 

And,  as  he 's  running  by, 

Follow  him  with  my  eye, 
Scarcely  believing  that— he  is  not  there! 

I  know  his  face  is  hid 

Under  the  coffin-lid; 
Oosed  are  his  eyes;  cold  is  his  forehead  fair; 

My  hand  that  marble  fdt; 

O'er  it  in  prayer  I  knelt; 
Yet  nty  heart  whispers  that — be  is  not  therel 

I  cannot  make  him  dead! 

When  passing  by  the  bed, 
So  long  watched  over  with  parental  care, 

My  ^irit  and  my  eye. 

Seek  him  inquiringly, 
Before  the  thought  comes  that— ^he  is  not  th^ret 

When,  at  the  cool  gray  break 

Of  day,  from  sleep  I  wake, 
With  my  first  breathing  of  the  morning  air 

My  soul  goes  up,  with  joy,  I 

To  Him  who  gave  my  boy; 
TTien  comes  the  sad  thought  that — he  is  not  therel , 

For  ot  there! 

Not  therel — ^Where,  then,  is  he? 

The  form  I  used  to  see 
Was  but  the  raiment  that  he  uaed  to  wear. 

The  grave,  that  now  doth  press 

UpoD  that  cast-off  dress, 
Is  but  his  wardrobe  lockediWic  is  not  therel 


3^0  Poems  of  Yourh  and  Age 

He  lives!— In  all  the  past 

He  lives;  nor,  to  the  last, 
Of  seeing  him  again  will  I  despair; 

In  dreams  I  sec  him  now; 

And  on  his  angel  brow, 
I  see  it  written,  "Thou  sbalt  see  me  'berel"  ■ 

Yes,  we  all  live  to  God!  >  ^ 

Father,  thy  chastening  rod 
So  help  us,  thine  afflicted  ones,  to  bear. 

Than,  in  the  spirit-land. 

Meeting  at  thy  right  hand, 
Twill  be  our  heaven  to  find  that— he  b  there! 

John  Picrpont  [173^-1866] 


Do  yQu  remember,  my  sweet,  absent  son. 

How  in  the  soft  June  days  forever  done 

You  loved  the  heavens  so  warm  and  clear  and  high; 

And  when  I  lifted  you.  soft  came  your  cry, — 

"Put  me  'way  up — 'way,  'way  up  in  blue  sky"? 

I  laughed  and  said  I  could  not; — set  you  down, 
Your  gray  eyes  wonder-filled  beneath  that  crown 
Of' bright  hair  Maddening  me  as  you  raced  by. 
Another  Father  now,  more  strong  than  I, 
Has  borne  you  voiceless  to  your  deaf  blue  skyv 

George  Parsons  Lalhrop  I18J1-1898I 


This  liule  child,  so  while,  so  calm. 

Decked  for  her  grave, 
Encountered  death  without  a  qualm. 

Are  you  as  brave? 

So  small,  and  armed  with  naught  beside 

Her  mother's  kiss, 
Alone  she  stepped,  unterrified, 

Into  the  abyss. 


'  Tired  Motbers    .  .      i 

"Ab,"  you  explain,  "ahe'dld  iiat.luiOW — i  i    ' 

This  babe  <^  four — 
Just  what  it  signttes  to  go."  .      ■    ■    \ 

Do  you  kBow  morer' 

Ktnlon  Foster  Murray  (18    - 


A  LTiTLE  elbow  leam  upon  your  knee,  ,]i 

Your  tired  knee  Ibat  has  so  much  to  beaii,  . 
A  chBd's  dear  eyes  are  looking  lovingfy  ,..■,• 

Fn»n  underaeath  a  thatch  of  taii,gkd  haft.  | 
Perhaps  you  do  not  heed  the  velvet  touch 

CH  warm,  moist  fingers,  folding  yours  so  tight; 
You  do  not  prize  this  blessing  overmuch, — 

You  almost  are  too  tired  to  pray  to-night. 

But  it  u  blessedness!   A  year  ago 

I  did  not  see  it  as  I  do  to-day,—  '    ■  ' 

We  are  so  doll  and  thankless;  and  too  slow  ' 

To  catch  the  sunshine  till  it  slips  a?ray,  ■       ■    ■  ' 
And  now  it  seems  surpassing  strange  to  m«    -     ' ' 

That,  while  I  wore  the  badge  ofnwtheriiood,' 
\  did  not  kfes  more  oft  and  teHderty 

TTie  litlle  child  that  brought  me  only  g«xl; 

And  if  some  night  when  you  sit  down  to  rest, 

You  miss  this  elbow  from  your  ticed  knee,— 
This  restless,  curling  head  from  off  your  breast,— 

This  lisping  tongue  that  chatters  corirtantly;  1 
If  from  youi  own  the  dhnpled  hands  had  eUpfttd; 

And  ne'er  would  nestle  in  yoo^pahnagwni^     ■  . 
If  the  white  feet  into  theit  grave  had  trippedy   ■  ' 

I  could  nat  blame  you  for  your  heartadie.  thoil 

I  wonder-so  that  nmrticrs  ever  fret  "I 

Al  Btde  children  dingily  ta  xhax  gown; 

Or  that  ti>e  footprmts,  when  the  days  awwet. 
Are  ever  black  enough  to  make  them  fcQwa.     1 


312  .         Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

If  I  could  find  a  little  muddy  boot. 
Or  cap,  or  jacket,  on  my  chambet-door,'— 

If  I  could  kiss  a  rosy,  restless  foot,  '  .  ' 

And  hear  its  patter  in  my  house  once  mcre,-^ 

If  I  could  mend  a  broken  cart  to-day. 

To-morrow  make  a  kite  to  reach  the  sky. 
There  is  no  woman  in  God 's  worU  could  say 

She  was  more  blissfully  content  than  I. 
But  ah!  the  dainty  pillow  next  myown 

Is  never  rumpled  by  a  shining  head; 
My  singing  birdling  from  its  nest  has  fiom, 

The  litUe  boy  I  used  to  kiss  is  dead. 

May  RHeyStnitk  [it^a- 


Ih  the  light  of  the  nioan,  hy  the  side  of  the  wafer. 

My  seat  on  the  sand  and  her  seat  on  my  Jcnacs,  , 
We  watch  the  bright  billows,  do  I  and  my  dauber. 

My  sweet  little  daughter  Louise. 
We  wonder  what  city  the  pathway  of  glory, 

That  broadens  away  to  the  UmitlefB  west, 
Leads  up  to — she  minds  her  of  some  pretty  Btory- 

And  says:  "To  the  cily  that  mortals  love  best." 
Then  I  say:  "It  must  lead  to  the  far  away  city,  ' 

The  beautiful  City  oE  Rest." 

In  the  light  of  the  moon,  by  the  side  of  the  water. 

Stand  two  in  the  shadow  of  whispering  trees, 
And  one  loves  my  daughter,  my  beautiful  daughttr, 

My  womanly  daughter  Louise. 
She  steps  to  the  boat  with  a  touch  of  bis  fingers. 

And  out  on  the  diamonded  pathway  they  move; 
The  shallop  is  lost  in  the  distance,  it  lingers,  i 

It  waits,  but  I  know  that  its  coming  will  prove 
That  it  went  to  the  walla  of  the  wondftrful  dty. 

The  magical  City  of  Love. 


Sonnets  3; 

In  the  light  of  the  moon,  by  the  sMe  of  tht  water, 

I  wait  for  her  coming  from  over  the  seas; 
I  wait  but  to  welcome  the  dust  of  my  daughter, 

To  weep  for  my  daughter  Louise. 
The  path,  as  of  old,  reaching  out  in  its  splendor. 

Gleams  bright,  like  a  way  that  an  angel  has  trod; 
I  kiss  the  cold  burden  its  billows  surrender, 

Sweet  clay  to  lie  under  the  pitiful  sod: 
But  she  rests,  at  the  end  of  the  path,  in  the  dty 

Whose  "builder  and  maker  is  God." 

Homer  Greene  [1853- 

Fiom  "Tbe  Spanish  Gypsy" 

The  Wdcld  is  great:  the  birds  all  fly  from  me, 
The  stars  aie  gakkn  fruit  upon  a  tree 
All  out  of  reach:  my  little  sister  went. 

And  I  am  lonely. 
The  world  is  great:  I  tried  to  mount  the  hiU 
Above  the  pines,  where  the  light  lies  so  still, 
But  it  rose  higher:  little  Lisa  went 

And  I  am  lonely. 

The  world  is  great :  the  wind  comes  rushing  by. 
I  wonder  where  it  comes  from;  sea  birds  cry 
And  hurt  my  hqpt:  my  little  sister  went, 
And  1  am  lonely. 

From  "  MinM(ia  BelU  " 
Have  dark  Egyptians  stolen  Thee  aWay, 
CSi  Baby,  Baby,  in  whose  cot  we  peer 
As  down  some  empty  gulf  that  opens  sheer 
And  fathomless,  illumined  by  no  ray? 

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324'  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  wilt  thou  come,  on  some  far  disLaQt  dajr. 
With  unknown  face,  and  say,  ""Behold!  I'm  here,    ; 
The  child  you  lost;"  while  we  in  sudden  fear. 
Dumb  with  great  doubt,  shall  fijid  no  woni  to  say? 
One  darker  than  dark  gipsy  holds  thee  fast; 
One  whose  strong  fingera  none  has  forced  apart 
■    Since  first  they  dosed  on  things  that,  were  too  iair; 
Nor  shall  we  sec  thee  other  than  thou  wa*t, 
But  such  as  thou  art  printed  in  the  heart, 
In  changeless  baby  loveliness  still  there. 

Two  springs  she  saw— two  radiant  Tuscan  springs, 

What  time  the  wild  red  tulips  are  aflame 

In  the  new  wheat,  and  wreaths  of  young  vine  frame 

The  daffodils  that  every  light  breeze  swio^; 

And  the  anemones  that  April  brings 

Make  purple  pools,  as  if  Adonis  came 

Just  there  to  die;  and  Florence  scrolls  her  name 

In  every  blossom  Prim  a  vera  flings. 

Now,  when  the  scented  iris,  straight  and  tall,  , 

Shall  hedge  the  garden  gravel  once  again 

With  pale  blue  flags,  at  May's  exulting  call. 

And  when  the  amber  roses,  wet  with  fain,  ■    ■ 

Shall  tapestry  the  old  gray  villa  wall,  ' 

We,  left  alone,  shall  seek  one  bud  in  vain. 

Oh,  rosy  as  the  lining  of  a  shell 

Were  the  wee  hands  that  now  are  white  as  snows; 

And  like  pink  coral,  with  their  elfln  toes. 

The  feet  that  on  life's  brambles  never  fell. 

And  with  its  tiny  smile,  adorable 

The  mouth  that  never  knew  hfe's  bitter  sloes; 

And  like  the  incurved  petal  of  a  rose 

The  little  ear,  now  deaf  in  Death's  strong  spell. 

Now,  while  the  se&sons  in  their  order  roll. 

And  sun  and  rain  pour  down  from  God's  ^eat  dome. 

And  deathless  stars  shine  nightly  overhead, 

Near  other  childreo,  with  het  little  doH, 


She  waits  the  WKord  that  will  never  come 

To  wake  the  skep^track  plajuround  of  the  deftd.. 

Oh,  bless  the  law  that  veils  the  Future's  face; 
For  who.  eotild  smile  into  a  baby's  eyes, 
Or  bear  the  beauty  o(  the  evening  skies, 
If  he  could  see  what  cometfa  on  apace? 
The  ticking  of  the  deatb-watch  would  replace 
The  baby's  prattle,  for  the  over-wise; 
The  breeze's  nrnrmur  would  become  the  cries 
Of  stormy  petrels  where  the  breakers  race. 
We  live  as  moves  the  walker  in  his  sleep, 
Who  walks  because  he  sees  not  the  abyss 
His  feet  are  skirting  as  he  goes  his  way: 
If  we  could  see  the  morrow  from  the  steep 
Of  our  security,  the  soul  would  miss 
Its  footing,  and  fall  headkmg  from  to-day. 

One  day,  I  mind  me,  now  that  she  is  dead. 

When  nothing  warned  us  of  the  daii  decree, 

I  crooned,  to  lull  her,  in  a  mioor  key, 

Such  fancies  as  fi«t  came  into  ray  head. 

I  crooned  them  low,  beside  her  little  bed; 

And  tibe  refrain  was  somehow  "  Come  with  me. 

And  we  will  wander  by  the  purple  sea;" 

I  crooned  it,  and — God  help  me! — feU  no  dread. 

O  Purple  Sea,  beyond  the  stress  of  storms. 

Where  never  ripple  breaks  upon  the  shore 

Of  Death's  pale  Isles  of  Twilight  as  they  dream, 

Give  back,  give  back,  O  Sea  of  Nevermore, 

The  frailest  of  the  unsubstantial  forms 

That  leave  the  shores  tliat  are  for  those  that  seem! 

What  essences  from  Idumean  palm, 

What  ambergris,  what  sacerdotal  wine. 

What  Arab  myrrh,  what  spikenard,  would  be  thine. 

If  I  could  swathe  thy  memory  in  such  balmi 

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3l6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Oh,  for  wrecked  gold,  from  deptts  for  ever  calm, 

To  fashion  for  thy  name  a  fretted  shriDc; 

Oh,  foT  strange  gems,  still  locked  in  virgin  mine. 

To  stud  the  pyx,  where  thought  would  bring  sweet  psalm! 

I  have  but  this  small  rosary  of  rhyme, — 

No  rubies  but  heart's  drops,  no  pearls  but  teais, 

To  lay  upon  the  altar  of  thy  name, 

0  Mimma  Bella; — on  the  shrine  that  Time 

Makes  ever  holier  for  the  soul,  while  years 

Obhterate  the  rolls  of  human  fame. 

Eugene  Lce-HamUlon  I1S45-1907] 


Little  Sister  Rose-Marie, 
Will  thy  feet  as  willing-light 
Run  through  Paradise,  1  wonder. 
As  they  run  the  blue  skies  under. 
Willing  feet,  so  airy-light? 

Little  Sister  Rose -Marie, 

Will  thy  voice  as  bird-note  clear 

Lift  and  ripple  over  Heaven 

As  its  mortal  sound  is  given, 

Swift  bird-voice,  so  young  and  cleat? 

How  God  will  be  glad  of  thee, 
Little  Sister  Rose-Mariel 

p:hy  Google 



Maiden!  with  the  meek,  brown  eyes. 
In  whose  orbs  a  shadow  lies 
Like  the  dusk  in  evening  skies! 

Thou  whose  lo(^  outline  the  sun,- 
Golden  tresses,  wreathed  in  one. 
As  the  braided  streamlets  run! 

Then  why  pause  with  indecvdpn. 
When  bright  angels  in  thy  vision 
Beckon  thee  to  fields  Elysian? 

Seeat  thou  shadows  sailing  by. 
As  the  dove,  with  startled  eye, 
Sees  the  falcon's  shadow  fiy? 

Hearest  thou  voices  on  the  shore, 
That  our  ears  perceive  no  more. 
Deafened  by  the  cataract's  roar? 

p:hy  Google 

3*8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Oh,  thou  child  of  many  prayeral 

Life  hath  quicksands, — Life  hath  snaresl 

Care  and  age  come  unawares! 

Like  the  swell  of  some  sweet  tune. 
Morning  rises  mto  noon, 
May  glides  onward  into  June. 

Childhood  b  the  bough,  where  slumbered 
Birds  and  blossoms  many-nustbered; — 
Age,  that  bough  with  snows  encumbered. 

Gather,  then,  each  flower  that  grows. 
When  the  young  heart  overflows, 
To  embalm  that  tent  of  snows. 

Bear  a  lily  in  thy  hand; 

Gates  of  brass  cannot  withstand 

One  touch  oE  that  magic  wand. 

Bear  through  sorrow,  wrong,  and  nith, 
In  thy  heart  the  dew  of  youth, 
On  thy  lips  the  smile  of  truth. 

Oh,  that  dew,  like  balm,  shall  steal 
Into  wounds  that  carmot  heaJ, 
Even  as  sleep  our  eyes  doth  sealj 

And  that  smile,  like  sunshine,  dart 
Into  many  a  sunless  heart 
For  s.  smile  cf  God  thou  art. 

llmry  WadsTuoHh  Longfeltaui  [1S07-1881] 


Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may. 

Old  Time  b  still  a-flying: 
And  thb  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day 

To-morrow  will  be  dying. 


To  Mistress  Mat^aret  Hussey       J29 

The  glorious  land  of  heaven,  the  sun. 

The  higher  he's  a-getting. 
The  sooner  will  his  race  be  run, 

And  ueaitc  he's  to  aettiog, 

That  age  is  best  which  is  the  first, 
When  yOuth  and  blood  are  warmer; 

But  being  spent,  the  worse,  and  worst 
Times  still  succeed  the  former. 

Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  youE  time. 

And  whik  ye  may,  ga  marry: 
For  having  lost  but  once  your  prime. 

You  may  for  ever  tarry. 

Robert  Heirkk  [1591-1674! 

Merry  Margaret 

So  maidenly. 
So  womanly 
Hec  demeaning 
In  every  thing, 
Far,  far  passing 
That  I  can  indite. 
Or  suffice  to  write 
Of  merry  Margaret 
As  midsummer  flower. 
Gentle  as  faicoa, 
Or  hawk  of  the  tower, 
As  patient  and  still 
And  as  full  of  good  wiU 
As  fair  Isaphill, 

p:hy  Google 

33°  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age  ■ 

Sweet  pomander, 
Good  Cassaoder; 
Steadfast  of  thought, 
Well  made,  well  wrought. 
Far  may  be  sou^t. 
Ere  that  ye  can  find 
So  courteous,  so  kiixl, 
As  merry  Margaret, 
This  midsummer  flower, 
Gentle  as  faloMi, 
Or  hafflc  of  the  towcr. 

John  SktUoH  in6a?-is7t)\ 


What's  she,  so  late  from  Penshuist  come, 
Moie  gorgeous  than  the  mid-day  sun. 

That  all  the  world  amasesP 
Sure  'tis  some  angel  from  above. 
Or  'tis  the  Cyprian  Queen  of  Love 

Attended  by  the  Graces. 

Or  is't  not  Juno,  Heaven's  great  dame, 
Or  Pallas  armed,  as  on  she  came 

To  assbt  the  Greeks  in  fight. 
Or  Cynthia,  that  huntress  bold. 
Or  from  old  Tithon's  bed  so  cold, 
Aurora  chasing  night?  ' 

No,  none  of  those,  yet  one  that  shall 
Compare,  perhaps  exceed  them  all, 

For  beauty,  wit,  and  birth; 
As  good  as  great,  as  chaste  as  fair, 
A  brighter  nymph  none  breathes  the  air, 

Or  treads  upon  the  earth. 

"Tis  Dorothfe,  a  maid  high-bom, 
And  lovely  as  the  blushing  mom, 


"O,  Saw  Ye  Bonny  l-esiey" 

Of  noble  Sfdncy's  race; 
Ohl  could  you  see  into  hei  mind, 
The  beauties  there  locked-up  outshine 

The  beauties  of  her  face. 

Fair  Dorothea,  sent  from  heaven 
To  add  more  wonders  to  the  seven. 

And  glad  each  eye  and  ear, 
Ciown  of  her  sex,  the  Muse's  port, 
Tlie  glory  of  our  English  court. 

The  brightness  of  our  sphere. 

To  welcome  her  the  Spring  breathes  forth 
Elysian  sweets,  March  strews  the  earth 

With  violets  and  posies, 
The  sun  renews  his  darting  fires, 
April  puts  on  her  beat  attiies, 

And  May  her  crown  of  roses. 

Go,  happy  maid,  increase  the  store 
Of  graces  bom  with  you,  and  more 

Add  to  their  number  still; 
So  neither  all-consuming  age. 
Nor  envy's  blast,  nor  fortune's  rage 

Shall  ever  work  you  ill. 

Edmund  WalUr  [1606-1687} 


0  SA*  ye  bonny  Lesley 
As  she  gaed  owre  the  Border? 

She's  gane,  like  Alexander, 
To  spread  hei  conquests  farther. 

To  see  her  is  to  love  her, 
And  love  but  her  for  ever; 

For  nattirc  made  her  what  she  is, 
And  ne'er  made  sic  anitherl 

p:hy  Google 

;i3'^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age    • 

Thou  art  a  queen,  fair  Lesley, 
Thy  subjects  we,  before  thee; 

Thou  ait  divine,  fair  Ledey, 
The  hearts  o'  men  adore  thee. 

The  deil  he  couldna  scaith  thee,       .        , 
Or  aught  that  wad  bclang  thee; 

He'd  look  into  thy  bonny  face, 
And  say,  "I  canna  wrang  theel" 

The  powers  aboon  will  tent  thee; 

Misfortune  sha'  na  steer  thee; 
Thou'rt  hke  themselves  sae  lovely 

That  in  they'll  ne'er  let  near  thee. 

Return  again,  fair  Lesley, 

Return  to  Caledonie! 
That  we  may  biag  we  hae  a  lass 

There's  nane  again  sae  bonny. 

Robert  Bums  Ins9-t796] 


Sweet  stream,  that  winds  through  yoader  glade. 
Apt  emblem  of  a  virtuous  maid!— 
Silent  and  chaste  she  steals  along, 
;  Far  from  the  world's  gay  busy  throng: 
With  gentle  yet  prevailing  force. 
Intent  upon  her  destined  course; 
Graceful  and  useful  all  she  docs, 
Blessing  and  West  where'er  she  goes; 
Pure-bosomed  as  that  watery  glass, 
And  Heaven  reflected  in  her  face! 

WiUiam  Cmeper  Iitji-iSctI 


She  stood  breast  high  among  the  com. 
Clasped  by  the  golden  light  of  mohi. 
Like  the  sweetheart  of  the  sun, 
Who  many  a  ^wing  kiss'had  wen. 

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The  Solitary  Reaper    ,  333 

On  her  check  an  autumn  flush, 
Deepiy  ripened;— such  a  blush 
In  the  midst  of  brown  was  born, 
Like  red  poppies  grown  with  com. 

Round  her  eyes  her  tresses  fell, 
Which  were  blackest  none  could  teii. 
But  long  lashes  veiled  a  light, 
That  bad  else  been  all  too  bright. 

And  her  hat,  with  shady  brim. 
Made  her  tressy  forehead  dim; 
Thus  she  stood  amid  the  stooks, 
Prabing  God  with  sweetest  Icwks: 

Sure,  I  said,  Heaven  did  not  mean,- 
Where  I  reap  thou  shouldst  but  glean; 
Lay  thy  sheaf  adown  and  come, 
Sharr  my  harvest  and  my  home. 

Thomas  Hood  fiyg^-iS^jJ 


Behold  her,  single  in  the  fieU, 
Yon  solitary  Hi^and  Lass! 
Reaping  and  singing  by  herself; 
Stop  here,  or  gently  pass! 
Alone  she  cuts  and  binds  the  grain. 
And  sings  a  melancholy  strain; 
O  listPn!  for  the  Vale  profound 
Is  overflowing  with  the  sound. 

No  Nightingale^d  ever  chaimt 
More  welcome  notes  to  wcaiy  bands 
Of  Travellers  in  some  shady  haunt. 
Among  Arabian  sandsi 
A  voice  so  thrilling  ne'er  was  heard 
In  spring-time  from  the  Cuckoo-Wrd, 
Breaking  the  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides. 

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3J4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Will  no  one  t«ll  me  what  she  sings? 

Perhaps  the  plaintive  niunbeis  flow 

For  old,  unhappy,  far-off  things, 

And  battles  long  ago: 

Or  is  it  some  more  humble  lay, 

Familiar  matter  of  to-day? 

Some  natural  sorrow,  loss,  or  pain, 

That  has  been,  and  may  be  againl     ^ 

Whate'er  the  theme,  the  Maiden  sang 
As  if  her  song  could  have  no  ending; 
I  saw  her  singing  at  her  work. 
And  o'er  the  sickle  bending; — 
I  listened,  motionless  and  still; 
And,  as  I  mounted  up  the  hiU, 
The  music  in  my  heart  I  bore. 
Long  after  it  was  heard  no  more. 

William  Wardswortk  [1770- 


But  in  sweet  pity;  and  can  hear 
Another's  praise  from  envy  dear. 

Such  (but  O  lavish  Nature!  why 
That  dark  unfathomable  eye. 
Where  lurks  a  Spirit  that  replies 
To  stillest  mood  of  softest  skies. 


The  Three  Cottage  Girb  3J5 

Yet  hints  at  peace  to  be  o'etthiown, 

IS  the  {estal  band. 

How  iAest  (if  truth  may  entnt^n 
Coy  fancy  with  a  bolder  stiain) 
The  Helvetian  Girl — who  daily  braves. 
In  her  hght  sltiff,  the  tossing  waves, 
And  quits  the  bosom  of  the  deep 

Her  beauty  dazzles  the  thick  wood; 

Her  rourage  animates  the  flood; 

Her  steps  the  elastic  greensward  meets 

Returning  unreluctant  sweets; 

The  mountains  {as  ye  heard)  rejoice 

Aloud,  saluted  by  her  voice! 

Blithe  Paragon  of  Alpine  grace, 

Be  as  thou  art — for  through  thy  veins 

The  blood  of  Heroes  runs  its  race! 

And  nobly  wilt  thou  biook  the  chains 

That,  for  the  virtuous,  Life  prepares; 

The  (ettw  T^ch  the  Matron  wears; 

The  patriot  Mother's  weight  ot  anzioua  caresl 


'3i^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

"Sweet  Highland  Girl!  a  very  shower 

Of  beauty  was  thy  earthly  dower," 

When  thou  didst  flit  before  mine  eyes, 

Gay  Vision  under  sullen  skies, 

While  Hope  and  Love  around  thee  played, 

Near  the  rough  falls  of  Inversneyd! 

Have  they,  who  niirsed  the  blossom,  seen 

No  breach  of  promise  in  the  fruit? 

Was  joy,  in  following  joy,  as  keen 

As  grief  can  be  in  grief's  pursuit? 

When  youth  had  Aown  did  hot>e  still  Uess 

Thy  goings — or  the  cheorfulness 

Of  innocence  survive  to  mitigate  distress? 

But  from  our  course  why  turn— to  tread 
A  way  with  shadows  overspri;ad; 
Where  what  we  gladlicst  would  believe 
Is  feared  as  what  may  most  deceive? 
Bright  Spirit,  not  with  amaranth  crowned 
But  heath-bells  from  thy  native  ground, 
Time  cannot  thin  thy  flowing  hair, 
Nor  take  one  ray  of  light  from  TTice; 
For  in  my  Fancy  thou  dost  share 
The  gift  of  immortality; 
And  there  shall  bloom,  with  Thet  allied. 
The  Votaress  by  Lugano's  side; 
And  that  intrepid  Nymph,  on  Uri's  steep  descried! 
Wiiliam  K'onUvortk  {ujo-iSsol 


The  priinrwose  in  the  sheide  do  bb>w, 

The  cvwsl^  in  tite  zun, 
The  thyme  upon  the  down  do  grow, 
:  Tlie  cbte  where  streama  do  nm; 


Blackmwore  Maidens 

An'  where  do  pretty  maidens  grow 
An'  blow,  but  where  the  tower 

Do  rise  aaiong  tbe  bricken  tuns, 
In  Blackniwore  by  the  Stour.  , 

If  you  could  zee  their  comely  gait. 

An'  pretty  feiices'  smiles, 
A-tiipp^  on  so  light  o'  walght. 

An'  steppen  oil  the  stiles; 
A-gwala  to  church,  as  bells  do  swing 

An'  ring  within  the  tower. 
You'd  own  the  pretty  maidens'  pIcAce 

Is  Blackmwore  by  the  Stour. 

If  you  vrom  Wimbome  took  your  road. 

To  Slower  or  Paladore, 
An'  all  the  farmers'  bouscn  showed 

Their  dau^ters  at  the  door; 
You'd  cry  to  bachelors  at  hwomc — 

"Here,  come:  'ithin  an  hour 
Youll  vind  ten  maidens  to  your  mind. 

In  Blackmwore  by  the  Stour." 

An'  if  you  looked  'ithin  their  door, 

To  zee  em  in  their  pleSce, 
A-dodn  housework  up  avore 

Their  smilSn  mother's  feace; 
You'd  cry —   Why,  it  a  man  would  wive 

An'  thrive,  'ilhout  a  dower. 
Then  let  en  look  en  out  a  wife 

In  Blackmwore  by  the  Stour." 

As  I  upon  my  road  did  pass 

A  school-house  back  in  May, 
Tliere  out  upon  the  beaten  grass 

Wer  maidens  at  their  play; 
An'  as  tbe  pretty  souls  did  tweil 

An'  smile,  I  cried,  "The  flower 
O'  beauty,  then,  is  still  in  bud 

In  Blackmwore  by  the  Stour." 

■WHtiam  Barms  [iSoi-i 

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33,8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


I  WILL  paint  her  as  I  see  her. 
Ten  times  have  the  lihes  blown 
Since  she  looked  upon  the  sun. 

And  her  face  is  liiy-c!ear, 

Lily-shaped,  and  dropped  in  duty 
To  the  law  of  its  own  beauty. 

Oval  cheeks  encoloied  faintly. 
Which  a  trail  of  golden  hair 
Keeps  from  fading  off  to  air; 

And  a  forehead  fair  aad  saintly, 
Which  two  Mue  eyes  underabine, 
Like  meek  prayers  before  a  shrine. 

Face  and  figure  of  a  child, — 
Though  too  calm,  you  think,  aad  tender, 
For  the  childhood  you  would  lend  her. 

Yet  child-simple,  undefiled, 
Frank,  obedient,  waiting  stiU 
On  the  turnings  of  your  will.  , 

iVfoving  light,  as  all  young  things. 
As  young  birds,  or  early  wheat 
When  the  wind  blows  over  it. 

Only,  Free  from  flutterings 
Of  loud  mirth  that  scometh  measure — 
Taking  love  for  her  chief  pleasure. 

Choosing  pleasures,  for  the  rest, 
Which  come  softly— just  as  she, 
When  ^e  nestles  at  your  knee. 

Quiet  talk  she  liketh  best. 
In  a  bower  of  gentle  looks,^ 
; ,  ■  W&tering  flpwers,  or  reading  books. 

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And  her  voice,  it  muimurs  lowly, 
As  a  silver  stieam  may  nut, 
Which  yet  feels  (you  fed)  the  sun. 

And  her  smile  it  seems  half  holy. 
As  if  drawn  from  thoughts  moic  far 
Tbaa  our  common  jesCings  are. 

And  if  any  poet  knew  her, 
He  would  sing  ol  her  with  falls 
Used  in  lovely  madiigals. 

And  if  any  painter  drew  her, 
He  would  paint  her  unaware 
With  a  halo  round  her  hair. 

And  if  reader  read  the  poem. 
He  would  ^rfiisper— "  You  have  done  a 
Consecrated  little  Una! " 

And  a  dreamer  (did  you  show  him 
That  same  pcture)  would  ezdaim, 
'"Us  my  angel,  with  a  namel" 

And  a  stranger,— when  he  sees  her 
In  the  street  even— smileth  stilly, 
Just  as  you  would  at  a  hly. 

And  all  voices  that  address  her. 
Soften,  sleeken  every  word. 
As  if  speaking  to  a  bird. 

And  all  fancies  yearn  to  cover 
The  hard  earth,  whereon  she  passes, 
V/itb  the  thymy-scented  grasses. 

And  all  hearts  do  pray,  "God  love  her!" 
Ay  and  always,  in  good  sooth. 
We  may  all  b^  sure  He  doth. 

ElitabtH  BarrtU  Brmmitti  (1S06-1861I 

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'34°  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


The  nests  arc  in  the  hedgerows. 
The  lambs  are  on  the  grass; 
With  laughter  sweet  as  music 
The  hours  lightfooted  pass, 
My  darling  child  of  fancy, 
My  winsome  prattling  lass. 

Blue  eyes,  with  long  brown  lashte, 
Thickets  of  golden  curl, 
Red  little  lips  disclosing 
Twin  rows  of  fairy  peari, 
Checks  like  the  apple  blossom,    ' 
Voice  lightsome  as  the  merie. 

A  whole  Spring's  fickle  changes. 
In  every  short-lived  dayf 
A  passing  cloud  of  Ajn-il, 
A  flowery  smile  of  May, 
A  thousand  quick  mutations 
From  graver  moods  to  gay. 

Far  off,  I  see  the  season 

When  thy  childhood's  course  is  run, 

And  thy  girlhood  opens  wider    , 

Beneath  the  growing  sun. 

And  the  rose  begins  to  redden, 

But  the  violets  are  done. 

And  further  still  the  summer. 
When  thy  fair  tree,  fully  grown, 
Shall  bourgeon,  and  grow  splendid 
With  blossoms  of  its  own. 
And  the  fruit  begins  to  gather, 
But  the  buttercups  are  mown. 

If  I  should  see  thy  autumn. 
Twill  not  be  close  at  hand. 
But  with  a  spirit  vision, 
From  some  far-distant  land. 


Daisy  341 

Or,  perhape,  I  h«ncc  may  See  tfan 
Amongst  the  angels  stand. 

I  know  not  vhat  of  fortune 
The  future  holds  for  thee, 
Nor  if  skits  fair  or  ck)uded 
Wait  thee  in  days  to  be. 
But  neither  joy  nor  sorrow 
Shall  ECver  thee  from  me. 

Dear  child,  whatever  changes  .      ■   -  .• 

Across  our  lives  may  pass, 

I  shall  see  thee  still  for  ever,  ,  '  . 

Clearly  as  in  a  glass. 

The  same  sweet  child  of  fancy. 

The  same  dear  vinsome  lass. 

Lewis  Morrit  ltie3-'907] 


Where  the  thistle  lif  u  a  purple  crown'  , 

Six  foot  out  of  the  turf, 
And  the  harebell  shakes  on  the  windy  hill — 

0  the  breath  of  the  distant  surf! — 

The  hills  look  over  on  the  South, 
And  southward  dreams  the  sea; 

And,  with  the  sca-brccze  liand  in  hand, 
Came  innocence  and  she. 

Where  'mid  the  gorse  the  raspTwrry 
Red  for  the  gatherer  springs, 

Two  children  did  wc  stray  and  talk 
Wise,  idle,  childish  things. ' 

She  listened  with  big-lipped  surprise. 
Breast-deep 'raid  flower  and  spine;  ■ '' 

Her  skin  was  like  a  grape,  whose  VriM 
Run  snow  instead  of  wine.  ' 


342.  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

She  knew  not  those  sweet  words  she  qwke. 
Nor  knew  her  own  sweet  way; 

But  there's  never  a  bird,  so  sweet  a  song 
Thronged  in  whose  throat  that  day! 

Oh,  there  were  flowers  in  Storrington 

On  the  turf  and  on  the  spray; 
But  the  sweetest  flower  on  Sussex  hiUs 

Was  the  Daisy-flower  that  day  I 

Her  beauty  smoothed  earth's  fuirowad  facel 
She  gave  me  tokens  three: — 
.  A  look,  a  word  of  her  winsoifte  mouth, 
And  a  wild  raspberry. 

A  beny  red,  a  guildess  look, 

A  still  word, — strings  of  sand! 
And  yet  they  made  my  wild,  wild  heart 

Fly  down  to  her  little  hand. 

For  standing  artless  as  the  air, 

And  candid  as  the  skies, 
She  took  the  berries  with  her  hand. 

And  the  love  with  her  sweet  eyes. 

The  fairest  things  have  fleetest  end: 
Their  scent  survives  their  dose. 

But  the  rose's  scent  is  bitterness 
To  him  that  loved  the  rose! 

She  looked  a  little  wistfully. 
Then  went  her  sunshine  way: — 

The  sea's  eye  had  a  mist  on  it. 
And  the  leaves  fell  from  the  day. 

She  went  her  unremembering  way, 

She  went  and  left  in  me 
The  pang  of  all  the  partings  gone, 

And  partings  yet  Co  be. 


To  Petronilla  13^3 

She  left  me  marveling  why  my  soul 

Was  sad  that  she  was  glad; 
At  all  the  sadness  in  the  sweet. 

The  sweetness  in  the  sad. 
Still,  still  I  seemed  to  see  her,  still  1 

Look  up  "mth  soft  ispUes, 
And  take  the  benies  with  her  hand, 

And  the  love  with'  ha  lovely  eyes. 
Nothing  begins,  and  nothing  ends. 

That  is  not  paid  with  moan;  ' 

For  we  are  bom  in  others'  pain, 

And  perish  in  our  own. 

Francis  Thompson  Fi85o?'igo7) 

s  PITT  UP  HER  Hair 

t  stay 

i  great  Command 

"Silly  boy,  as  if  I  knew," 
Fetrouilla  said. 
Nay,  but  I  am  very  sure, 
Since  you  left  my  side. 
Something  has  befallen  yon. 
You  are  fain  to  bide. 
Homage  has  been  d<aie  to  you, 
Innocents  have  died. 

"Silly  boy,  asif  IcaiBd,"    • 
Petronilla  said. 

Htnry  Howarlh  Baakford  |i8So- 


344  Poems  of  Youth. and  Age 


Passing  I  saw  her  as  she  stood  beside 
A  lonely  stream  between  two  barren  wolds; 
Her  loose  vest  hung  in  rudely  githcred  folds 
On  her  swart  bosom,  which  in  maiden  pride 
Pillowed  a  string  of  pearls;  among  her  hair 
Twined  the  light  bluebell  and  the  stone-crop  gay; 
And  not  far  thence  the  small  encampment:  lay, 
Curling  its  wreathed  smc4(e  into  the  ajr. 
She  seemed  a  child  oE  some  sun-favored  clime; 
So  still,  so  habited  to  warmth  and  rest; 
And  in  my  wayward  musings  on  past  time, 
When  my  thought  fill£  with  treasured  memories 
That  image  nearest  borders  on  the  blest 
Creations  of  pure  art  that  never  dies. 

Benry  Alford  [1810-1871I 


Come  and  see  her  as  she  stands. 
Crimson  roses  in  her  hands; 

And  her  eyes 
Are  as  dark  as  SouUbem  night. 
Yet  than  Southern  dawn- more  btlght, 
And  a  soft,  Alluring  light 

In  ihem  lies. 

None  deny  if  she  beseech 
With  that  pretty,  liquid  speech 

Of  the  South. 
All  her  consonants  arc  slurred, 
And  the  vowels  are  preferred; 
There's  a  poem  in  each  word 

From  that  mouth. 

Even  Cupid  is  her  slave; 

Of  her  arrows,  half  he  gave  i 

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Somebody's  Child       •  34c 

Her  one  day 
Id  bl  merry,  playful  hour. 
Dowered  with  these  and  beauty's  dower, 
Strong  indeed  her  magic  power, 

So  they  say.  ' 

Venus,  not  to  be  outdone 


e  there. 

Tender  eyes  where  the  shadows  sie^. 
Lit  firom  within  by  a  secret  ray, — 

Tender  eyes  that  will  shine  like  stats 
When  love  and  womanhood  come  this  yny: 

Scarlet  lips  with  a  story  to  tell,^ 
Blessed  be  he  who  shall  find  it  out, 

Who  shall  learn  the  eyes'  deep  secret  well. 
And  read  the  heart  with  never  a  doubt. 

Then  you  will  tremble,  scarlet  lips, 
Then  you  will  crimson,  lovdiest  cheeks: 

Eyes  will  brighten  and  blushes  will  bum 
When  the  one  true  lover  bends  and  speaks. 

But  she's  oidy  a  child  now,  as  you  see. 
Only  a  ctrild  in  her  careless  grace: 

When  Love  and  Womanhood  come  this  way 
Will  anything  sadden  the  flower-like  face? 


34-6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Halfwat  up  the  Hemlock  valley  turqpikfii 

In  the  bend  of  Silver  Water's  arm, 
Where  the  deer  come  trooping  down  at  even. 
Drink  the  cowslip  pool,  and  fear  no  harm, 

Dwells  Emilia, 
Flower  of  the  fields  of  Camlet  Farm. 
Sitting  sewing  by  the  western  window 

As  the  too  brief  mountain  sunshine  Hies, 

Hast  thou  seen  a  slender-shouldered  figure 

With  a  chestnut  braid,  Minerva-wise, 

Round  her  temples, 
Shadowing  her  gray,  enchanted  eyes? 

When  the  freshets  flood  the  Silver  Water, 
When  the  swallow  flying  northward  braves 

Sleeting  rains  that  sweep  the  birchen  foothills 
Where  the  windflowers'  pale  plantation  waves — ■ 

(Fairy  gardens 
Springing  from  the  dead  leaves  in  their  graves),- 

Falls  forgotten,  then,  Ejnilia's  needle; 

Ancient  ballads,  fleeting  through  her  l»ain. 
Sing  the  cuckoo  and  the  English  primrose. 

Outdoors  calling  witli  a  quaint  refrain; 
And  a  rainbow 

Seems  to  brighten  through  the  gusty  rain. 

Forth  she  goes,  in  some  old  dress  and  faded, 
Fearless  of  the  showery  shifting  wind; 

Kilted  are  her  skirts  to  clear  ihe  mosses, 
And  her  bright  braids  in  a  'kerchief  phmaj. 

Younger  sister 
Of  the  damsel-errant  Rosalind. 

While  she  helps  to  serve  the  harvest  supper 

In  the  lantem-lighted  village  haU, 
Moonlight  rises  on  the  burning  wwxUand, 

Ec^ioes  dwindle  from  tlie  distant  Fall. 
Hark,  Emilia! 

la  her  ear  the  airy  voices  coll. 


To  a  Greek  Girl  3 

Hidden  papers  in  the  dusty  garret, 
Where  her  few  and  secret  poems  tie, — 

Thither  flies  her  heart  to  join  her  treasure, 
While  she  serves,  with  absent-musing  eye, 

Mighty  taJikards 
Ftxuniiig  dder  in  the  glasses  high. 

"Would  she  mingle  with  her  young  companioiis! " 

Vainly  do  her  aunts  and  uncles  say; 
Ever,  fnxa  the  village  sports  and  dances, 

Early  missed,  Emilia  slips  away. 
Whither  vanishedP 

With  what  unimagined  mates  to  play? 

Did  they  seek  her,  wandering  by  the  water, 
They  should  find  her  comrades  shy  and  stcatige: 

Queens  and  princesses,  and  saints  and  fairies, 
Dimly  moving  in  a  cloud  of  change: — 

Mariana  of  the  Moated  Grange. 

Up  this  valley  to  the  fair  and  market 

When  young  farmers  from  the  southward  ride, 
Oft  they  linger  at  a  sound  of  chanting 
In  the  meadows  by  the  turnpike  side; 

Long  they  listen, 
Deep  in  fancies  of  a  fairy  bride. 

Sarah  N.  Cleghorn  [1876- 

With  breath  of  thyme  and  bees  that  hum, 


'348  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Where'er  you  pasa,— where'er  yoo  go, 

I  hear  the  pebbly  rillet  flow;  "      '■ 

Where'er  you  go, — where'er  you  pass, 

There  comes  a  gladness  on  the  grass; 

You  bring  blithe  airs  where'er  you  tread, — 

Blithe  airs  that  blow  Uom  down  and  Bear, 
Vou  wake  in  me  a  Pan  not  dead, — 

Not  wholly  dead!— AutonoS! 

How  sweet  with  you  on  some  green  aod 
To  wreathe  the  rustic  garden-god; 
How  sweet  beneath  the  chestnut's  shade 
With  you  to  weave  a  basket-biaid; 
To  watch  across  the  stricken  chords 

Your  rosy- twinkling  fingers  flee; 
To  woo  you  in  soft  woodland  woida, 

With  woodland  pipe,  Autonoil 

In  vain, — in  vainl    The  years  divide: 
Where  Thamis  rolls  a  murky  tide, 
I  sit  and  fill  my  painful  reams, 
And  see  you  only  in  my  dreams; — 
A  vision^  like  Alceslis,  brought 

From  untler-lands  of  ^Icmory, — 
A  dream  of  Form  in  days  of  Thought,— 

A  dream, — a  dream,  Autono6! 

Austin  Dobstn  [1840- 



She  rose  from  her  untroubled  sleep,        ' 

And  put  away  her  soft  brown  hair, 
And,  in  a  tone  as  bw  and  deep 

As  love's  first  whisper,  breathed  a  prayer— 
Her  snow-white  hands  together  pressed, 

Her  blue  eyes  sheltered  in  the  lid. 
The  folded  linen  on  her  breast. 

Just  swdKng  with  the  chamiB  it  hid; 

p:hy  Google 

A  lift-Ltsson 

-Axd  froot  bee  Idiig  and  Sowing' drtss' 

Escaped  a  bare  and  skndef  foot) 
Whose  shape  upon  the  earth  did  press 

Like  a  new  snow-flake,  white  and  "mutie"; 
And  tfatxo,  from  dumber  pure  aad  wann,' 

Like  a  young  spirit  ftesh  from  heaved. 
She  bowed  her  sUght  and  graceful  form, 

And  humbly  prayed  to  be  forgiven. 

Will  our  wild  errors  be  forgiven! 

Nalhanid  Parker  Wiais  [1806-1867] 

Ah,  be  not  false,  sweet  Splendor! 

Be  true,  be  good; 
Be  wise  as  thou  art  tender; 

Be  all  that  Beauty  should. 

Not  lightly  be  thy  citadel  subdued; 

Not  ignobly,  not  untimely. 
Take  praise  in  solemn  mood; 

Take  love  sublimely. 

Hickard  WalsanGUdcr  [1S44-1000I 

TheheI  little  girl,  don't  cry! 

They  have  broken  your  doll,  I  know; 
And  your  tea-set  blue, 
And  your  play-house,  too. 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago; 

p:hy  Google 

350,         Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

But  diildish  troubles  will  sood  pass  by. — 
Tliere!  little  girl,  don't  cryl 

Therel  little  girl,  don't  cry! 

They  have  broken  your  slate,  I  know; 
And  the  glad,  n-ild  ways 
Of  your  school-girl  days 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago; 
But  life  and  love  will  soon  come  by.— 
There!  little  girl,  don't  cry! 

There!  little  girl,  don't  cry! 

They  have  broken  your  heart,  I  know; 
And  the  rainbow  gleams 
Of  your  youthful  dreams 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago; 
But  Heaven  holds  all  for  which  you  sigh.— 
There!  little  girl,  don't  cry! 
,  James  Wkitcamb  Riley  [1851-1916! 





Bend  now  thy  body  to  the  common  weight: 
(But  oh,  that  vine-clad  head,-  those  limbs  of  mom! 

Those  proud  young  shoulders,  I  myself  made  straightl 
How  shall  ye  wear  the  yoke  that  must  be  worn?) 


£But  31 

Those  d 


Nay,  then,  thou  shalt!    Resist  not— have  a  care! 

(Yea,  I  must  work  my  plans  who  sovereign  ait; 
Yet  do  not  tremble  sol    I  cannot  bear — 

Thou^  I  am  God— to  see  th^  so  submit!) 

Margaret  Steele  Andtrton  (18    - 


There  are  gains  for  all  onr  losses, ' 

There  are  balms  for  all  our  pain: 

But  when  youth;  the  dream,  departs, 

It  takes  something  from  our  hearts, 

Audit  n 

»  again. 

We  are  stronger,  and  are  better, 

Under  manhood's  sterner  reign: 
Slin  we  feel  that  something  sweet 
Followed  youth,  witb  flying  feet. 
And  wOl  never  come  again.' 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Something  beautiful  is  vani^ied. 

And  we  sigh  for  it  in  vain: 
We  behold  it  everywhere. 
On  the  earth,  and  in  the  air, 
'But  it  never  comes  again. 

Rkhard  atmy  Stoddard  [iSi5-:90jI 

"DAYS  OF  MY  YOUTH-"     ., 

Davs  of  my  youth, 

Ve  have  glided  away; 
Hairs  of  my  youth, 

Ye  are  frosted  and  gray; 
Eyes  of  my  youth, 

Your  keen  sight  is  no  more;,  , 
Cheeks  of  my  youth, 

Ve  are  furrowed  all  o'er; 
Strength  of  my  youth. 

All  your  vigor  is  gone; 
Thoughts  of  my  youth, 

Your  gay  visions  are  flono.       , 

Days  of  my  youth, 

I  wish  Dot  youi  recall; 
Hairs  of  my  youth, 

I'm  content  ye  should  fall; 
Eyes  of  my  youth,  . , 

You  much  evil  have  seen; 
Cheeks  of  my  youth. 

Bathed  in  tears  have  you  been; 
Thoi^hts  of  my  youth,  ■ 

You  have  led  me  astray; 
Strength  of  my  youth. 

Why  lament  your  decay? 

Days  of  my  age, 

Ye  will  shortly  be  past; 
Fains  of  my  age, 

Yet  awhile  ye  can  last; 


Ave  Atque  Vale 

Joys  of  my  age, 

In  true  wisdom  delight; 




rxe  Tucker  [n 


Fazewell,  ray  Youth!  for  now  we  needs  mUBt  pah, 
For  here  the  paths  divide; 

Here  hand  from  hand  must  sever,  heart  from  heart, — 
Divergence  deep  and  wide. 

You'll  wear  no  withered  roses  for  my  sake, 
Though  I  go  mourning  for  you  all  day  long. 
Finding  no  magic  more  in  bower  or  brake. 
No  raelody  in  song. 

Gray  Eld  must  travel  in  my  company 
To  seal  this  severance  more  fast  and  sure. 
A  Joyless  fellowship,  i'  faith,  'twill  be, 
Yet  must  we  fare  together,  I  and  he, 
Till  I  shall  tread  the  footpath  way  no  more. 

But  when  a  blackbird  pipes  among  the  boughs, 
*--0n  some  dim,  iridescent  day  in  spring, 
Then  I  may  dream  you  are  remembering 
Our  ancient  vows. 

Or  when  some  joy  foregone,  some  fate  forsworn, 
Looks  through  the  dark  eyes  of  the  violet, 
I  may  re-crosB  the  set,  forbidden  boume, 

I  may  forget 
Out  long,  long  parting  for  a  little  while. 
Dream  of  the  golden  splendors  of  your  smile, 

Dream  you  remember  yet. 

SntaBUmd  Marriott  Watson  [rSSj-iQit] 

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354  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Where  art  thou  gone,  light -ankled  Youth? 

With  wing  at  either  shoulder, 
And  smile  that  never  left  thy  mouth 

Until  the  Hours  grew  colder: 

Then  somewhat  seemed  to  whisper  near 

That  thou  and  I  must  part; 
I  doubted  it;  I  felt  no  tear, 

No  weight  upon  the  heart. 

If  aught  befell  it,  Love  was  by 

And  rolled  it  ofi  again; 
So,  if  there  ever  was  a  sigh, 

'Twas  not  a  sigh  of  pain. 

I  may  not  call  thee  back;  but  thou 

Retumest  when  the  hand 
Of  gentle  Sleep  waves  o'er  my  brow 

His  poppy-crested  wand; 

Then  smihng  eyes  bend  over  mine, 

Then  Lps  once  pressed  invite; 
But  sleep  hath  given  a  silent  sign. 

And  both,  alas!  take  flight. 

Walter  Savage  Landor  [1775-18641 


Oh,  talk  not  to  me  of  a  name  great  in  story; 
The  days  of  our  youth  are  the  days  of  oui  ^ory; 
And  the  myrtle  and  ivy  of  sweet  two-and-twenty 
Are  worth  all  your  laurels,  though  ever  so  plenty. 

What  are  garlands  and  crowns  to  the  brow  that  is  wrinkled? 
Tis  but  as  a  dead-flower  with  May-dew  besprinkled; 
Then  away  with  all  such  from  the  head  that  is  hoaiyl 
What  care  I  for  the  wreaths  that  can  wiy  give  glory? 


Stanzas  for  Music  355 

Oh  Faice! — if  I  e'er  took  delight  in  thy  praises, 
Twas  less  for  the  take  of  thy  high-sounding  phrases. 
Than  to  see  the  bright  eyes  of  the  dear  one  discover, 
She  thought  that  I  wu  not  unworthy  to  lave  her. 

There  diiefly  I  sought  thee,  there  only  I  found  thee; 
Her  glance  was  the  best  of  the  rays  that  surround  thee; 
When  it  sparkled  o'er  aught  that  was  bright  in  my  story, 
I  knew  it  was  love,  and  1  felt  it  was  glory. 

George  Gordon  Byron  (178^-1834] 


There's  not  a  joy  the  world  can  give  like  that  it  takes  away, 

ftlien  the  glow  of  early  thought  declines  in  feeling's  dull  de- 

Tis  not  on  youth's  smooth  cheek  the  blush  alone,  which 
^ules  so  fast. 

But  the  tender  bloom  of  heart  is  gone,  ere  youth  itself  be 

Then  the  few  whose  spirits  float  above  the  wreck  of  happiness 
Aredriveno'er  the  shoals  of  guilt  or  ocean  of  excess: 
The  magnet  of  their  course  is  gone,  or  only  points  in  vain 
The  shore  to  which  thur  shivered  sail  shall  never  stretch 

Then  the  mortal  cnldness  of  the  soul  like  death  itself  comes 

It  cannot  feel  for  others'  woes,  it  dare  not  dream  Its  own; 
That  heavy  chill  has  frozen  o'er  the  fountain  of  our  tears, 
And  though  the  eye  may  sparkle  still,  'tis  where  the  ice 

TIk>u^  wit  may  flash  from  fluent  lips,  and  mirth  dbtract 
the  breast. 

Through  michtight  hours  that  yield  no  more  their  former 
hope  of  rest; 

lis  but  as  ivy-leaves  around  the  ruined  turret  wreathe, 

All  green  and  wiWIy  fresh  without,  but  worn  and  gray  be- 


2^6  Poems  of  Vouth  and  Age 

Oh  could  I  feci  as  1  have  fell,-^r  be  what  I  have  been, 

Or  weep  as  I  could  once  have  wept  o'er  many  a  vanished 

As  springs  in  deserts  found  seem  sweet,  all  brackish  though 

they  be, 
So,  midst  the  withered  waste  of  life,  those  tears  would  flovv 


George  Garden  Byron  (1788-1814) 

"WHEN  AS   A  LAD" 

When,  as  a  lad,  at  break  of  day 

I  watched  the  fishers  sail  away, 
My  thoughts,  like  flocking  birds,  would  follow 
Across  the  curving  sky's  blue  hollow, 

And  on  and  on — 

Into  the  Very  heart  of  dawn! 

For  long  I  searched  the  world!    Ah  me! 
'       I  searched  the  sky,  1  searched  the  sea. 
With  much  of  useless  grief  and  rueing, 
Those  wingM  thoughts  of  mine  pursuing — 

So  dear  were  they, 
'    So  lovely  and  so  far  away! 

I  seek  them  still  and  always  will 

Until  my  laggard  heart  is  still. 
And  I  am  free  to  follow,  follow. 
Across  the  curving  sky's  blue  hollow. 

Those  thoughts  too  fleet 

For  any  save  the  soul's  swift  (cct! 

Isabel  Eccleslont  Mackay  |i8    - 


Arounb  the  child  bend  all  the  three 
Sweet  Graces — Faith,  Hope,  Charity. 
Around  the  man  bend  other  faces — 
Pride,  Envy,  Malice,  are  his  Graces. 

WaUa  Satage  Landor  [i7T5"i86al 


The  Quest  357 


When  I  was  a  beggarly  boy, 

And  lived  in  a  cellar  damp, 
I  had  not  a  friend  nor  a  toy, 

But  I  had  Aladdin's  lamp; 
When  I  could  not  sleep  for  the  cold, 

I  had  fire  enough  in  my  brain, 
And  builded,  with  roofs  of  gold, 

My  beautiful  castles  in  SpainI 

Since  then  I  have  toiled  day  and  night, 

1  have  money  and  power  good  store. 
But  I'd  give  all  my  lamps  of  silver  bright 

For  the  one  that  is  mine  no  more. 
Take,  Fortune,  whatever  you  choose; 

Vou  gave,  and  may  snatch  again; 
I  have  nothing  'twould  patn  me  to  lose. 

For  I  own  no  more  castles  in  Spain ! 

James  RusseU  Loarell  [iSiq-iS 

e  of  life 
)  Spain, 
er  mists. 

My  little  ship  through  unknown  seas 
Sailed  many  a  chongkog  day; 

Sometimes  the  chilling  winds  came  up 
And  blew  across  her  way; 

Sometime^  the  lain  came  down  and  hid 
The  shining  shores  bf  Spain, 

The  beauty  of  the  silver  mists 
And  of  the  iplden  grain. 

p:hy  Google 

358  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

But  through  the  rains  and  through  the  winds, 

Upon  the  untried  sea, 
My  fairy  ship  sailed  on  and  on, 

With  all  my  dreams  and  me. 

And  now,  no  more  a  child,  I  long 

For  that  sweei  lime  a^n. 
When  on  the  far  t^rizon  bar 

Rose  up  the  shores  of  Spain, 

0  lovely  land  of  silver  mists, 
O  land  of  golden  grain, 

1  look  for  you  with  smiles,  with  tears, 
But  look  for  you  in  vain! 

BiUn  Mackey  HutchtMioH  CarliiK*  I18    -■ 


"My  birth -day  "—what  a  different  sound 

That  word  had  in  my  youthful  ears! 
And  how,  each  lime  the  day  comes  round, 

Less  ?nd  less  white  its  mark  appears! 
When  first  our  scanty  years  are  told. 
It  seems  like  pastime  to  grow  old: 
And,  as  Vouth  counts  the  shining  links 

That  Time  around  him  binds  so  fast. 
Pleased  with  the  task,  he  little  thinks- 

How  hard  that  chain  will  prese  at  last. 
Vain  was  the  man,  and  false  as  vain, 

Who  said—  "  were  he  ordained  to  ran 
His  long  career  of  life  again, 

He  would  do  all  that  he  had  done." 

Ah,  'tis  not  thus  the  voice,  that  dwells 

In  sober  birth-days,  speaks  to  me; 
Far  otherwise — of  time  it  tells 

Lavished  unwisely,  carelessly; 
Of  counsel  mocked;  of  talents,  made 

HSply  for  high  and  pure  de^gCis, 
But  oft.  like  Israel's  incense,  laid 

Vpon  luiholy,  earthly  shrines; 



Of  nursii^  many  a  wrong  desire; 

Of  waQdeiing  after  Love  too  far. 
And  taking  every  meteor-lire 

That  crossed  my  pathway,  for  a  star. 

All  this  it  tells,  and,  could  I  trace 
The  imperfect  picture  o'er  again, 

With  power  to  add,  retouch,  efface 

The  lights  and  shades,  the  joy  and  pain. 

How  little  of  the  past  would  stayl 

And  comfortless,  and  stormy  round! 

Thomas  Motrre  [1779 


How  soon  hath  Time,  the  subtle  thief  of  youth, 
Stolen  on  his  wing  my  three-and-twentieth  year! 
My  hasting  days  fly  on  with  full  career. 
But  my  late  spring  no  bud  or  blossom  shew'th. 

Perhaps  my  semblance  might  deceive  the  truth 
That  I  to  manhood  am  arrived  so  near; 
And  inward  r^>eaess  doth  much  less  appear, 
That  some  more  timely-happy  spirits  endu'th. 

Yet,  be  it  leas  or  more,  or  soon  or  slow. 
It  shall  be  still  in  strictest  measure  even 
To  that  same  lot,  however  mean  or  high, 

Toward  which  Time  leads  oie,  and  the  will  of  Heaven: 
All  is,  if  I  have  grace  to  use  it  so, 
As  ever  in  my  great  Task-master's  eye. 

John  MUIbh  I1&08-1674] 

p:hy  Google 

360  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Tb  time  this  heart  should  be  unmoved, 

Since  others  it  hath  ceased  to  move: 
Yet,  though  I  cannot  be  beloved, 
Still  let  me  love! 

My  days  are  in  the  yellow  leai; 

The  flowers  and  fruits  ol  love  are  gone; 
The  worm,  the  canker,  and  the  grief 
Ate  mine  alone  I 

The  tire  that  on  my  bosom  preys 

Is  lone  as  some  volcanic  isle; 
No  torch  is  kindled  at  its  blaze — 
A' funeral  pile. 

The  hope,  the  fear,  the  jealous  care, 

The  exalted  portion  of  the  pain 
And  power  of  love,  I  cannot  share. 
But  wear  the  chain. 

But  'tis  not  ihus — and  'tis  not  here — 

Such  thoughts  should  shake  my  soul,  nor  now. 
Where  glory  decks  the  hero's  bier. 
Or  binds  his  brow. 

The  sword,  the  banner,  and  the  field, 
Glory  and  Greece,  around  me  see! 
The  Spartan,  borne  upon  his  shield, 
Was  not  more  free. 

Awake!  (not  Greece — she  is  awake!) 

Awake,  my  spirit!     Think  through  unkoai 
Thy  life-blood  tracks  its  parent  lake, 
And  then  strike  home! 

Tread  those  reviving  passions  down. 

Unworthy  manhood! — unto  thee 
Indifferent  should  the  smile  or  frown 
Of  beauty  be. 


Growing  Gray  361 

If  thou  regret  'st  thy  youth,  why  Hvef 

The  land  of  honorable  death 
Is  here:— up  to  the  fidd,  and  give 
Away  thy  breath  I 

Seek  out — less  often  sought  than  iound — 

A  soldier's  pave,  for  thee  the  best; 
Then  look  around,  and  choose  thy  ground. 
And  take  thy  rest. 

George  Gordon  Byron  Ii788-i8a<] 


"Omar  attdi  u»  OBir." 

A  LITTLE  more  toward  the  light; — 
Me  miserable!    Here's  one  that's  white; 

And  one  that's  turning; 
Adieu  to  song  and  "salad  days;" 
My  Muse,  let's  go  at  once  to  Jay's, 

And  order  mourning. 

We  must  reform  our  rhymes,  my  Dear, —  . , 
Renounce  the  gay  for  the  severe, — 

Be  grave,  not  witty; 
We  have,  no  more,  the  right  to  find 
That  Pyrrha's  hair  is  neatly  twined,— 

That  Chloe's  pretty. 

Young  Love's  for  us  a  farce  that's  played; 
Light  canzonet  and  serenade 

No  more  may  tempt  us; 
Gray  hairs  but  ill  accord  with  dreams; 
From  aught  but  sour  didactic  themes 

Our  years  exempt  us. 

Indeed!  you  really  fancy  so? 

You  think  for  one  white  streak  we  grow 

At  once  satiric? 
A  fiddlestickl    Each  hair's  a  string 
To  which  our  ancient  Muse  shall  sing 

A  younger  lyric. 

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361  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  heart's  stiB  sound.   Shall  "cakes  and  ale" 
Grow  rare  to  youth  because  we  rail 

At  schoolboy  dishes? 
Perish  the  thought!    Tis  ours  "to  chant 
When  neither  Time  nor  Tide  can  grant 

Belief  with  wishes. 

Austin  Detsom  {1840- 


The  wisest  of  the  wise 
Listen  to  pretty  lies 

And  love  to  hear  'em  told. 
Doubt  not  that  Solomon 
Listened  to  many  a  one, — 
Some  in  his  youth,  and  more  when  he  grew  dd. 

I  never  was  among 

The  choir  of  Wisdom's  song, 

But  pretty  lies  loved  I 
As  much  as  any  tting. 
When  youth  was  on  the  wing, 
And  (must  it  then  be  told?)  when  youth  had  quite  gone  by. 

Alas!  and  I  have  not 
The  pleasant  hour  forgot 

When  one  pert  lady  said, 
"O  Walter!!  am  quite 
Bewildered  with  aftright! 
I  see  (sit  quiet  now)  a  white  hair  on  your  head!" 

Another  more  benign 
Srupped  it  away  from  mine, 
And  in  her  own  dark  hair 
Pretended  it  was  found  .* .  . 
She  leaped,  and  twirled  it  round  .  .  . 
Fair  as  she  was,  she  never  was  so  fair! 

WaUtf  SoMie  Lander  [1T7J-1864I 


Middle  Age  363 

Ooa  youtt  began  with  tears  and  si^s. 

With  seeking  what  we  could  not  find; 
Our  verses  all  were  threnodies, 

In  elegiacs  still  we  whined; 

Our  eara  were  deaf,  our  eyes  were  bliuc 
We  sought  and  knew  not  what  we  sou^. 

We  marvel,  now  we  k>ok  behind: 

Though  youth  "turns  spectre-thin  and  dies," 

To  mourn  for  youth  we're  6ot  inclined; 
We  set  oui  sovia  on  salmon  ffies, 

We  whistle  where  we  once  repined. 

Confound  the  woes  of  hutnan-kiud! 
By  Heaven  we're  "well  deceived,"  1  wot; 

Who  hum,  coDtented  m  resisted, 
"Life's  more  amusing  than  we  thought"! 


0  note  meCMta,  worn  and  lined 
Our  faces  show,  but  thai  is  naught; 

Our  hearts  arc  young  'neath  wrinkled  rind: 
life's  more  amusing  than  we  thought! 

Andrew  Lang  [1844-igii) 

When  that  my  days  were  fewer. 

Some  twenty  years  ago, 
And  all  that  is  was  newer. 

And  time  itself  seemed  slow, 


3.64  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

With  ardor  all  impassioned. 

I  let  my  hopes  fly  free, 
And  deemed  the  world  was  fashioned 

My  playing-field  to  be. 

The  cup  of  joy  was  filled  then 

With  Fancy's  sparkling  wine; 
And  all  the  things  I  willed  then 

Seemed  destined  to  be  mine. 
Friends  had  I  then  in  plenty. 

And  every  friend  was  true;. 
Friends  always  are  at  twenty. 

And  on  to  twenty-two. 

The  men  whose  hair  was  sprinkled 

With  little  flecks  of  gray, 
Whose  faded  brows  were  wrinkled — 

Sure  they  had  had  their  day. 
And  though  we  bore  no  malice, 

We  knew  their  hearts  were  cold, 
For  they-had  drained  their  chalice, 

And  now  were  spent  and  old. 

At  thirty,  we  admitted, 

A  man  may  be  alive, 
But  slower,  feebler  wjtted; 

And  done  at  thirty-five. 
I(  Fate  prolongs  his  earth-days, 

His  joys  grow  fewer  still; 
And  after  five  more  birthdays 

He  totters  down  the  hill. 

We  were  the  true  immortals 

Who  held  the  earth  in  fee; 
For  us  were  flung  the  portals 

Of  fame  and  victory. 
The  days  were  bright  and  breezy, 

And  gay  our  banners -flew, 
And  every  peak  was  easy 

To  scale  at  twenty-two. 

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Middle  Age  36 j 

And  thus  we  Gpent  oui  gay  time 

As  having  much  to  spendj 
Swift,  swift,  that  pretty  playtime 

Flew  by  and  had  its  end. 
-And  lol  without  a  waroiug 

I  woke,  as  others  do, 
One  fine  mid-winter  morning, 

A  man  of  forty-two. 

And  DOW  I  see  bow  vainly 

Is  youth  with  ardor  fired; 
How  fondly,  how  insanely 

I  formeriy  aspired. 
A  boy  may  still  detest  age, 

But-as  for  me  I  know, 
A  man  has  reached  his  best  age 

At  forty-two  or  so. 

For  youth  it  is  the  season 

Of  restlessness  and  strife; 
Of  passion  and  unreason, 

And  ignorance  of  life. 
Since,  though  his  cheeks  have  roses, 

No  boy  can  understand 
That  everything  he  knows  is 

A  graft  at  second  hand. 

But  tee  have  toiled  and  wandered 

With  weary  feet  and  numb; 
Have  doubted,  sifted,  pondered,— 

How  else  should  knowledge  come? 
Have  seen,  too  late  for  heeding, 

Our  hopes  go  out  in  tears, 
Lost  in  the  dim  receding, 

Irrevocable  years. 

Yet,  though  with  busy  fingers 

No  more  we  wreathe  the  flowers, 
An  airy  perfume  lingers, 

A  bii^tneas  still  is  ours. 


266  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  though  no  rose  our  cheeks  have, 
The  sky  stiH  shines  as  blue; 

And  still  the  distant  peaks  have 
The  glow  of  twenty-two. 

Rudolph  Ckambers  Lektmum  {1856*, 

Week  I  was  seventeen  I  heard 

From  each  censorious  tongue* 
"I'd  not  do  that  if  I  were  you; 

You  see  you're  rather  young," 

Now  that  I  number  forty  years, 

I'm  quite  as  often  told 
Of  this  or  that  I  shouldn't  do 

Because  I'm  quite  too  old. 

O  carping  world  I   If  there's  an  age 
Where  yoirth  and  manhood  Iwq> 

An  equal  poise,  absl   I  must 
Have  passed  it  in  my  sleep. 

Walter  Learned  [iS4T~'9'5l 

My  heart  leaps  up  when  I  behold 

A  rainbow  in  the  sky: 
So  was  it  when  my  life  began; 
So  is  it  now  I  am  a  man; 
So  be  it  when  I  shall  grow  old, 

Or  let  me  die! 
The  Child  is  father  of  the  Man; 
And  I  could  wish  my  days  to  be 
Bound  each  to  each  by  natural  piety. 

William  Wordsverlh  (i770-t85o) 


Pass,  thon  wUd  light. 
Wild  light  on  peaks  that  so 


Equinoctial  367 

Grieve  to  let  go 

Lovely  thy  tanying,  lovely  too  is  night: 

Pass  thou  away. 

Pass,  thou  wild  heart, 

Wild  heart  of  youth  that  still 

Hast  half  a  will 

To  stay. 
I  grow  too  old  a  comrade,  let  us  part: 

Pass  thou  away. 

WiUiam  WaUon  [1858- 


The  sun  of  life  has  crossed  the  line; 

The  summer-shine  of  lengthened  li^ 
Faded  and  failed,  till,  where  I  stand, 

Tis  equal  day  and  equal  night. 

One  after  cme,  as  dwindling  hours. 

Youth's  glowing  hopes  have  dropped  away, 
And  soon  may  barely  leave  the  gleam 

That  coldly  scores  a  winter's  day. 

I  am  not  young;  I  am  not  old; 

The  flush  of  mom,  the  sunset  calm, 
Paling  and  deepening,  each  to  each, 

Meet  midway  with  a  solemn  charm. 

One  aide  I  see  the  summer  fields. 
Not  yet  disrobed  of  all  their  green; 

While  westerly,  along  the  hills, 
Flame  the  first  tints  of  frosty  sheen. 

Ah,  middte-point,  where  cloud  and  storm 
Make  battle-ground  of  this  my  life! 

Where,  even-matched,  the  night  and  day 
Wage  round  me  their  September  strife  1 

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368  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  bow  me  to  the  threatening  gale: 
I  know  when  that  is  overput, 

Among  the  peaceful  harvest  daysi 
An  Indian  Summer  comes  at  last! 

Adeline  D.  T.  Wkiiney  (1814-1906] 


From  "  Aliluiia  in  Calydon" 

Before  the  beginning  of  years, 

There  came  to  the  making  of  man 
Time,  with  a  gift  of  tears; 

Griel,  with  a  glass  that  ran; 
Pleasure,  with  pain  for  leaven; 

Summer,  with  flowers  that  fell; 
Remembrance,  fallen  from  heaven; 

And  madness,  risen  from  hell; 
Strength' without  hands  to  smite; 

Love,  that  endures  for  a  breach; 
Night,  the  shadow  of  light; 

And  life,  the  shadow  of  death. 

And  the  high  gods  took  in  hand 

Fire,  and  the  falling  of  tears, 
And  a  measure  of  sliding  sand 

From  under  the  feet  of  the  years; 
And  froth  and  drift  of  the  sea; 

And  dust  oC  the  laboring  earth; 
Aqd  bodies  of  things  to  be 

In  the  houses  of  death  and  of  birth; 
And  wrought  with  weeping  and  laughter, 

And  fashioned  with  loathing  and  love. 
With  life  before  and  after, 

And  death  beneath  and  above. 
For  a  day  and  a  ni^t  and  a  mofrow, 

That  his  strength  might  endure  for  a  ^>an, 
With  travail  and  heavy  sorrow, 

The  holy  ^irit  of  man. 


Man  J  69 

From  the  winds  ol  the  north  and  the  south 

They  gathered  as  unto  strife; 
They  breathed  upon  his  mouth. 

They  filled  his  body  with  life; 
Eyesight  and  speech  they  wrought 

For  the  veils  of  the  soul  therein, 
A  time  Tor  labor  and  thot^t, 

A  time  to  serve  and  to  sin; 
They  gave  him  light  in  his  ways, 

And  love,  and  a  space  for  deUght, 
And  beauty  and  length  of  days. 

And  night,  and  sleep  in  the  night. 
His  speech  is  a  burning  fire; 

With  his  lips  he  travaileth; 
In  his  heart  is  a  blind  desire, 

In  his  eyes  foreknowledge  of  death; 
He  weaves,  and  is  clothed  with  derision - 

Sows,  and  he  shall  not  reap; 
His  lite  is  a  watch  or  a  vision 

Between  a  sleep  and  a  sleep. 

Algernon  Charles  Sininhime  liSaj-iijogl 


Weighing  the  steadfastness  and  state 
Of  some  mean  things  which  here  below  reside, 
Where  birds,  like  watchful  docks,  the  noiseless  date 

And  intercourse  of  times  divide, 
Where  bees  at  night  get  home  and  hive,  and  flowers, 

Early  as  well  as  late. 
Rise  with  the  sun,  and  set  in  the  satne  bowers; 

I  would,  said  I,  my  God  would  give 
The  staidness  of  these  things  to  man!  for  these 
To  His  divine  aj^xiintments  ever  cleave, 

And  no  new  business  breaks  their  peace; 
The  birds  nor  sow  nor  reap,  yet  sup  and  dine. 

The  flowers  without  clothes  live, 
Vet  Solomoa  was  never  dressed  so  fine. 

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lyo  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Man  bath  still  either  toys,  or  care; 
He  hath  no  root,  nor  to  one  place  is  tied, 
But  ever  restless  and  irregular 

About  this  earth  doth  run  and  ride; 
He  knows  he  hath  a  home,  but  scarce  knows  where; 

He  says  it  is  so  far. 
That  he  hath  quite  forgot  how  to  go  there. 

He  knocks  at  all  doors,  strays  and  roams; 
Nay,  hath  not  so  much  wit  as  some  stones  have, 
Which  in  the  darkest  nights  point  to  their  homes 

By  some  hid  sense  their  Maker  gave; 
Man  is  the  shuttle,  to  whose  winding  quest 

And  passage  through  these  looms 
God  ordered  motion,  but  ordained  no  rest. 

Benry  Vauthan  (1612-16115 


When  God  at  first  made  Man, 
Having  a  glass  of  blessings  standing  by — 
Let  us  (said  He)  pour  on  him  all  we  can; 
Let  the  world's  riches,  which  dispersM  lie, 

Contract  into  a  span. 

So  strength  first  made  a  way. 
Then  beauty  flowed,  then  wisdom,  honor,  pleasure; 
When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay, 
Perceiving  that,  alone  of  all  His  treasure, 

Rest  in  the  bottom  lay. 

For  if  I  should  (said  He) 
Bestow  this  jewel  also  on  My  creature. 
He  would  adore  My  gifts  instead  of  Me, 
And  rest  in  Nature,  not  the  God  of  Nature: 

So  both  should  losers  be. 

Yet  let  him  keep  the  rest, 
But  keep  them  with  repining  restlessness; 
Let  him  be  rich  and  weary,  that  at  least. 
If  goodness  lead  him  not,  yet  weariness 

May  toss  him  to  My  breast. ' 

George  Uerbert  [isw-ifijj] 


Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality    371 


Theke  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grove,  and  stream, 
The  earth,  and  every  common  sight, 
To  me  did  seem 
Apparelled  in  celestial  light, 
The  glory  and  the  freshness  of  a  dream. 
It  b  not  now  as  it  hath  been  of  yore; — 
Turn  wheresoe'er  I  may. 
By  night  or  day, 
The  things  which  I  have  seen  I  now  can  see  no  more. 

The  Rainbow  comes  and  goes. 

And  lovely  b  the  Rose; 

The  Moon  doth  with  delight 
Look  round  her  when  the  heavens  are  bare; 

Waters  on  a  starry  night 

Are  beautiful  and  fair; 
The  sunshine  is  a  glorious  birth; 
But  yet  I  know,  where'er  I  go, 
That  (here  hath  passed  away  a  glory  from  the  earth. 

Now,  while  the  Birds  thus  sing  a  joyous  song. 
And  while  the  young  Lambs  bound 

As  to  the  tabor's  sound, 
To  me  alone  there  came  a  thought  of  grief: 
A  timely  utterance  gave  that  thought  reliof, 

And  1  t^ain  am  strong. 
The  Cataracts  blow  their  trumpets  from  the  Steep: 
No  more  shall  grief  of  mine  the  season  wrong; 
I  hear  the  Echoes  through  the  mountains  throng. 
The  Winds  come  to  me  from  the  fields  of  sleep. 

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372  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Aod  all  the  earth  is  gay; 

Land  and  Sea 
Give  themselves  up  to  jollity, 
And  with  the  heart  of  May 
Doth  every  Beast  keep  holiday; — 
Thou  Child  of  Jojs 
Shout  round  me,  let  me  hear  thy  shouts,  thou  happy  Shep 


Ye  bless&i  Creatures,  I  have  heard  the  call 

Ve  to  each  other  make;  I  see 
The  heavens  laugh  with  you  in  your  jubike; 

My  heart  is  at  your  festival, 

My  head  hath  its  coronal, 

The  fulness  of  your  bliss,  1  feel — I  feel  it  all. 

0  evil  day!  if  I  were  sullen 
While  Earth  herself  is  adorning 

This  sweet  May  morning. 
And  the  Children  are  cuUing 

On  every  side, 
In  a  thousand  valleys  far  and  vide. 
Fresh  flowers;  while  the  sun  shines  warm. 
And  the  Babe  leaps  up  on  his  Mother's  arm: — 

1  hear,  I  hear,  with  j'oy  I  hear! 

— But  there's  a  Tree,  of  many,  one, 
A  single  Field  which  I  have  looked  upon. 
Both  of  them  speak  of  something  (hat  is  gone: 

The  Pansy  at  my  feet 

Doth  the  same  tale  repeat: 
Whither  is  8ed  the  visionary  gleam? 
Where  is  it  now,  the  glory  and  the  dream? 

Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting: 
The  Soul  that  rises  with  us.  our  life's  Star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting. 

And  cometh  from  afar: 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 


Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality    373 

But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 

From  God,  who  is  our  home: 
Heaven  lies  about  us  tn  our  infancy! 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  Boy, 
But  he  beholds  the  light,  and  whence  it  flows, 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy; 
The  Youth,  who  daily  farther  from  the  East 
Must  travel,  still  is  Nature's  Priest, 

And  by  the  vision  spendid 

Shaped  by  himself  with  newly-leam&i  art; 
A  wedding  or  a  festival, 
A  mouining  or  a  funeral; 

And  this  hath  now  his  heart, 
And  unto  this  he  frames  his  song: 
Then  will  he  fit  his  tongue 
To  dialogues  of  business,  love,  or  strife: 
But  it  will  not  be  long 


374  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Eie  this  be  thrown  aside, 

And  with  new  joy  and  pride 
The  little  Actor  cons  another  part ; 
Filling  from  time  to  time  his  "hiuaorous  stage" 
With  all  the  Persons,  down  to  palsied  Age, 
That  Life  brings  with  her  in  her  equipage; 

As  if  his  whole  v 

Were  endless  ii 

Thou,  whose  exterior  semblance  doth  belie 

Thy  Soul's  immensity; 
Thou  best  Philosopher,  who  yet  dost  keep 
Thy  heritage,  thou  Eye  among  the  blind, 
That,^eaf  and  silent,  read'st  the  eternal  deep. 
Haunted  for  ever  by  the  eternal  mfnd, — 

Mighty  Prophet!  Seer  blest! 

On  whom  those  truths  do  rest, 
Which  we  are  toiling  all  our  lives  to  find, 
In  darkness  lost,  the  darkness  of  the  grave: 
Thou,  over  whom  thy  Immortality 
Broods  like  the  Day,  a  master  o'er  a  Slave, 
A  Presence  which  is  not  to  be  put  by; 
Thou  little  Child,  yet  glorious  in  the  might 
Of  heaven-bom  freedom  on  thy  being's  height, 
Why  with  such  earnest  pains  dost  thou  provoke 
The  years  to  bring  the  inevitable  yoke. 
Thus  blindly  with  thy  blessedness  at  strife? 
Full  soon  thy  Soul  shall  have  her  earthly  freight. 
And  custom  lie  upon  thee  with  a  weight 
Heavy  as  frost,  and  deep  almost  as  life! 


0  joy!  that  in  our  embeis 

Is  something  that  doth  live, 

That  nature  yet  remembers 

What  was  so  fugitive! 
The  thought  of  our  past  yean  in  me  doth  tfieed 
Perpetual  benediction:  cot  indeed 

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Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality    37J 

For  that  which  is  moat  worthy  to  be  blest — 

Delist  and  liberty,  the  simple  creed 

Of  Childhood,  whether  busy  or  at  rest, 

With  DDw-fledged  hope  still  fluttering  in  his  bieaBt>~ 

Not  tor  these  I  raise 

The  song  of  thanks  and  praise; 
But  for  those  obstinate  questionings 

Of  sense  and  outward  things, 

Fallings  from  us,  vanishings; 
Blank  misgivings  of  a  Creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realiwd. 
High  mstincts  before  which  our  mortal  Nature 
Did  tremble  like  a  guilty  thing  surprised: 

But  for  those  first  affections, 

Those  shadowy  recollections, 


Then  ang,  ye  Birds,  sing,  sing  a  joyous  song! 
And  let  the  young  Lambs  bound 
As  to  the  tabor's  sound! 
We  in  thought  will  join  your  throng. 


^7$  J*oems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Yc  that  pipe  and  ye  thai  jJfty, 
Yc  that  through  your  hearts  tO-day 
Feel  the  gladness  of  the  May! 

What  though  the  radiance  which  was  once  so  bright 

Be  now  for  ever  taken  from  my  sight. 

Though  nothing  can  bring  bade  the  hour 

Of  splendor  in  the  grass,  of  glory  in  the  flower; 
We  will  grieve  not,  rather  find 
Strength  in  what  remains  behind', 
In  the  primal  sympathy 
Which  having  been  must  ever  be; 
In  the  soothing  thoughts  that  spring 
Out  of  human  suffering; 
In  the  faith  that  looks  through  dettli, 

In  years  that  bring  the  philosophic  mind. 

And  0,  ye  Fountains,  Meadows,  Hills,  and  Groves, 

Forebode  not  any  severing  of  our  loves! 

Yet  in  ray  heart  of  hearts  I  feel  your  might; 

I  only  have  relinquished  one  delight 

To  live  beneath  your  more  habitual  sway. 

I  love  the  Brooks,  which  down  their  channels  fret. 

Even  more  than  when  I  tripped  lightly  as  they: 

The  innocent  brightness  of  a  new-born  Day 

Is  lovely  yet; 
The  Clouds  that  gather  round  the  setting  sun 
Do  take  a  sober  coloring  from  an  eye 
That  hath  kept  watch  o'er  man's  mortality; 
Another  race  hath  been,  and  other  palms  are  won. 
Thanks  to  the  human  heart  by  which  we  live. 
Thanks  to  its  tenderness,  its  joys,  and  fears. 
To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blows  can  give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  He  loo  deep  for  tears. 

William  U'orrfflmtrfA  [1770-1830) 



Not  she  with  traitorous  kiss  her  Saviour  stung, 
Not  she  denied  him  with  unholy  tongue; 
She,  while  apostles  shrank,  could  dangers  brave. 
Last  at  the  cross  and  earliest  at  the  grave. 

Eaton  Staniiard  Barrett  (1786-1810] 


There  in  the  fane  a  beauteous  creature  stands, 

The  first  best  work  of  the  Creator's  hands. 

Whose  slender  limbs  inadequately  bear 

A  fuU-oibed  bosom  and  a  weight  of  care; 

Whose  teeth  like  pearis,  whose  lips  like  cherries,  show, 

And  tawn-Iike  eyes  still  tremble  as  they  glow. 

From  tie  Sanskrit  ofCalidasa 


Froni  "  Epksne  " 

Still  to  be  neat,  still  to  be  dressed 

As  you  were  going  (o  a  feast ; 

Still  to  be  powdered,  still  perfumed: 

Lady,  it  is  to  be  presumed, 

Though  art's  hid  causes  are  not  found, 

AH  is  not  sweet,  all  is  not  sound. 

Give  mc  a  look,  give  me  a  face. 
That  makes  simplicity  a  grace; 
Robes  loosely  flowing,  hair  as  free: 
Such  sweet  neglect  more  taketh  me 
Than  all  the  adulteries  of  art;    ■ 
They  strike  mine  eyes,  but  not  my  heart. 

a*H  Jemon  |isj3?-i637l 


378  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


A  SWEET  disorder  in  the  dress 

Kindles  in  clothes  a  waDtonness: 

A  lawn  about  the  shoulders  thrown 

Into  a  fine  distraction: 

An  erring  lace,  which  here  and  there 

Enthrals  the  crimson  stomacher; 

A  cuff  neglectful,  and  thereby 

Ribbons  to  flow  confusedly: 

A  winning  wave,  deserving  note, 

In  the  tempestuous  petticoat: 

A  careless  shoe>string,  in  whose  tie 

I  see  a  wild  civility: 

Do  more  bewitch  me  than  when  art 

Is  too  precise  in  every  part. 

Robert  BerHek  (151 


Give  place,  you  ladies,  and  begone! 

Boast  not  yourselves  at  ail! 
For  here  at  hand  approacheth  one 

Whose  face  will  stain  you  all. 

The  virtue  of  her  lively  looks 
Excels  the  precious  stone; 

I  wish  to  have  none  other  books 
To  read  or  look  upon. 

In  each  of  her  two  crystal  eyes 

Smileth  a  naked  boy; 
It  would  you  ail  in  heart  suffice 

To  see  that  lamp  of  joy. 

I  think  Nature  hath  lost  the  mould 
Where  she  her  shape  did  take; 

Or  else  I  doubt  if  Nature  could 
So  fair  a  creature  make. 


A  Praise  of  His  Lady 

She  may  be  wdl  compared 

Unto  the  Phcenix  kind, 
Whose  like  was  never  seen  nor  heaid, 

That  any  man  can  find. 

If  all  the  world  were  sought  so  far, 
Who  could  find  such  a  wight? 

Her  beauty  twinileth  liki;  a  star 
Within  the  frosty  night. 

Lod  goes 

doth  the  rose 

At  Bacchus'  feast  none  shaQ  her  meet, 

Nor  at  no  wanton  play, 
Nor  gazing  in  an  open  street, 

Nor  gadding  as  a  stray. 

The  modest  mirth  that  she  doth  use 
Is  mixed  with  shamefastness; 

All  vice  she  doth  wholly  refuse, 
And  hatcth  idleness. 

OLord!  it  iaa  wodd  to  see 

How  virtue  can  Tepair, 
And  deck  ba  in  such  hoaesty. 

Whom  Nature  made  u  fair. 

Truly  she  doth  so  far  exceed 

OflT  women  nowadajfs, 
As  doth  the  gillyflower  a  weed; 

And  more  ft  thousand  ways. 


380  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

How  might  I  do  to  get  a  graft 

Of  this  unspotted  treeP 
For  all  the  rest  are  plain  but  chaff. 

Which  seem  good  com  to  be. 

This  gift  alone  I  shall  her  give: 
Vibea  death  dolh  what  he  can. 

Her  honest  fame  shall  ever  live 
Within  the  mouth  of  man. 

John  Heywood  [i«g7?-i58o?] 


I  KNOW  a  thing  that's  most  uncommon; 

(Envy,  be  silent  and  attend!) 
I  know  a  reasonable  woman, 

Handsome  and  witty,  yet  a  friend. 

Not  warped  by  passion,  awed  by  rumor^ 
Not  grave  through  pride,  nor  gay  through  foUy; 

An  equal  mixture  of  good-humor 
And  sensible  soft  melancholy. 

"Has  she  no  faults  then  (Envy  says),  Sir?" 

Yes,  she  has  one,  I  must  aver: 
When  all  the  world  conspires  to  praise  her, 

The  woman's  deaf,  and  does  not  hear. 

Alexandtr  Poft  11688-1744] 


Shf  was  a  phantom  of  delight 
When  first  she  gleaned  xxpoa  my  sight; 
A  lovely  apparition,  sent 
To  be  a  moment's  omantent; 
Her  eyes  as  stars  of  twilight  fair; 
Like  twilight's,  too,  her  dusky  hair; 
But  all  things  else  about  her  drawn 
From  May-time  and  the  cheedd  dawn; 
A  dancing  shape,  an  image  gay. 
To  hauntj  to  atactle.  and  waylay. 

p:hy  Google 

The  Solitary-Hearted  381- 

I  saw  her  upon  nearer  view, 

A  Spirit,  yet  a  Woman  too! 

Her  household  motions  light  and  free, 

And  steps  of  virgin  libertjr; 

A  countenance  in  whkh  did  meet 

Sweet  records,  promises  as  sweet; 

A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 

For  human  nature's  daily  food; 

For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiJes, 

Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears,  and  smiles. 

And  now  I  see  with  eye  serene 

The  very  pulse  of  the  machine; 

A  being  breathing  thoughtful  breath, 

A  traveller  between  life  and  death; 

The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will,  ' 

Endurance,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill; 

A  perfect  Woman,  nobly  planned. 

To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command; 

And  yet  a  i^ric  still,  and  bright 

With  something  of  angelic  light. 

WiUiam  Wordruxirth  [1770-1850I 


She  was  a  queen  of  noble  Nature's  crowning, 

A  smile  of  hers  was  like  an  act  of  graoc;  1 

Sk  had  no  winsome  looks,  no  pretty  frowning. 

Like  daily  beauties  of  the  vulgar  race: 

But  if  she  smiled,  a  light  was  on  her  face, 

A  clear,  cool  kindliness,  a  lunar  beam 

Of  peacefid  radiance,  silvering  o'er  the  stream 

Of  human  thought  with  luiabiding  glory; 

Not  quite  a  waking  truth,  not  quite  a  dream, 

A  visitation,  bright  and  transitory. 

But  she  is  changed,*— hath  felt  the  touch  of  sorrow, 
No  love  hath  she.  no  understanding  friend; 
O  grief!  when  Heaven  is  forced  of  earth  to  bomrw ' 
What  the  poor  m'ggard  earth  has  not  to  lend; 


381  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

But  when  the  stalk  is  snapped,  the  rose  must  bend. 
The  taJJest  flower  that  skyward  rears  its  head 
Grows  from  the  common  ground,  and  there  roust  shed 
Its  delicate  petals.     Cruel  fate,  too  surely, 
That  they  should  find  so  base  a  bridal  bed, 
Who  lived  in  virgin  pride,  so  sweet  and  purely. 

She  had  a  brother,  and  a  tender  father. 
And  she  was  loved,  but  not  as  others  are 
From  whom  we  ask  return  of  love, — but  rather 
As  one  might  love  a  dream;  a  phantom  fair 
Of  something  exquisitely  strange  and  rare, 
Which  all  were  glad  to  look  on,  men  and  maids, 
Yet  no  one  ciaimed— as  oft,  in  dewy  glades, 
The  peering  primrose,  like  a  sudden  gladness. 
Gleams  on  the  soul,  yet  unregarded  fades; —  ' 
The  joy  is  ours,  but  all  its  own  the  sadness. 

'Tis  vain  to  say — her  worst  of  grief  is  only 
The  common  lot,  which  all  the  world  have  known; 
To  her  'tis  more,  because  her  heart  is  lonely, 
And  yet  she  hath  no  strength  to  stand  atone, — 
Once  she  had  playmates,  fancies  of  her  own. 
And  she  did  love  them.    They  are  passed  away 
As  Fairies  vanish  at  the  break  of  day; 
And  like  a  spectre  of  an  age  departed, 
Or  unsphered  Angel  wofully  astray, 
She  glides  along— the  solitary-hearted. 

Harlity  Cfltridie  [i7g6-iS4g] 

Women  there  are  on  earth,  most  sweet  and  high, 

Who  lose  their  own.  and  walk  bereft  and  lonely. 
Loving  that  one  lost  heart  until  tbey  die, 
Loving  it  only. 

And  so  they  never  see  beside,  thran  grow 

Children,  whose  coming  is  like  breath  of  fionen; 
Coospled  by  subtler  loves  the  angels  know 
Throu^  i^hildles^  ^14% 

p:hy  Google 

"She  Walks  in  Beauty"  383 

Good  deeds  they  do:  they  comfort  and  they  bless 

In  duties  others  put  oS  till  the  morrow; 
Their  look  b  balm,  their  touch  is  tenderness 
To  all  in  sorrow. 

s  the  worid  smiles  at  tbem,  as  'twere  shame, 
This  maiden  guise,  long  after  youth's  departed; 
But  in  God's  Book  they  bear  another  name — 
"The  faithful-hearted." 

Faithful  in  life,  and  faitliful  unto  death, 

Siidi  souls,  m  sooth,  illume  with  lustre  splendid 
That  glimpsed,  glad  land  wherein,  the  Vision  saith. 
Earth's  wrongs  are  ended. 

Richard  Burton  [1S59- 


See  walks  in  beauty,  like  the  ni^t 
Of  doudless  climes  and  starry  skies; 

And  all  that's  best  of  dark  and  bright 
Meet  in  her  aspect  and  her  eyes: 

Thus  mellowed  to  that  tender  li^t 
Which  heaven  to  gaudy  day  denies. 

One  shade  the  more,  one  ray  the  less, 
Had  half  impaired  the  nameless  grace 

Which  waves  in  every  raven  tress 
Or  softly  lightens  o'er  her  face; 

Where  thoughts  serenely  sweet  express 
How  pure,  how  dear  their  dwelling-place. 

And  on  that  cheek,  and  o'er  that  brow 

So  soft,  90  calm,  yet  eloquent. 
The  smiles  that  win,  the  tints  that  ^ow, 

But  tell  of  days  in  goodness  spent, 
A  mind  at  peace  with  all  below, 

A  heart  whose  love  is  innocent! 

Gwrgt  Gorian  Byrm  [1TB8--1814I 


3?4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Fnxn  "  The  Angd  b  the  HouM  " 

Ah,  wasteful  woman,  she  that  may 

On  her  sweet  self  set  her  own  price, 
Knowing  man  cannot  choose  but  pay. 

How  has  she  cheapened  paradise; 
How  given  for  nought  her  priceless  gift. 

How  spoiled  the  bread,  and  spilled  the  wjne, 
Which,  spent  with  due,  respective  thrift, 

Had  made  brutes  men,  and  men  divine. 


O  Queen,  awake  to  thy  renown, 

Require  what  'tis  our  wealth  to  give. 
And  comprehend  and  wear  the  crown 

Of  thy  despised  prerogative! 
I,  who  in  manhood's  name  at  length 

With  glad  songs  come  to  abdicate 
The  gross  regality  of  strength, 

Must  yet  in  this  thy  praise  abate, 
That,  through  thine  erring  humbleness 

And  disregard  o(  thy  degree, 
Mainly,  has  man  been  so  much  less 

Than  fits  his  fellowslu'p  with  thee. 

High  thoughts  had  shaped  the  toolisli  brow. 

The  coward  haii  grasped  the  hero's  sword. 
The  vilest  had  been  great,  hadst  thou. 

Just  to  thyself,  been  worth's  reward. 
But  lofty  honors  undersold 

Sdler  and  buyer  both  disgrace^ 
And  favors  that  make  folly  bold 

Banish  the  light  from  virtue's  face. 



And  still  with  favor  singled  out, 

Marred  less  than  man  by  mortal  fall, 
Her  disposition  is  devout. 

Her  countenance  angelical: 
The  best  things  that  the  best  believe 

Are  in  hci  face  so  kindly  writ 
The  faithless,  seeing  her,  conceive 

Not  only  heaven,  but  hope  of  it; 
No  idle  thought  her  instina  shrouds, 

But  fancy  chequers  settled  sense, 
like  alteration  of  the  clouds 

On  noonday's  asure  pennancnce. 

Wrong  dares  not  in  her  preseice  speak, 

Nor  spotted  thought  its  taint  ^sdose 
Under  the  protest  of  a  cfaedt 

Outbragging  Nature's  boast,  the  rose. 
In  mind  and  manners  how  discreet; 

How  artless  in  her  very  art ; 
How  candid  in  discourse;  how  sWeet 

The  conconl  ol  her  lips,  and  hearti 

p:hy  Google 

2^6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

How  simple  and  how  drcumspect; 

How  subtle  and  how  fancy-tree; 
Though  sacred  to  her  love,  how  decked 

With  unexclusive  courtesy; 
How  quick  in  talk  to  see  from  far  ^ 

The  way  to  vanquish  or  evade; 
How  able  her  persuasions  arc 

To  prove,  her  reasons  to  persuade. 

How  (not  to  call  true  instinct's  bent 

And  woman's  very  nature,  harm). 
How  amiable  and  innocent 

Her  pleasure  in  her  power  to  charm; 
How  himibiy  careful  to  attract, 

Though  crowned  with  all  the  soul  deuces, 
Connubial  aptitude  exact, 

Diversity  that  never  tiresl 


Boon  Nature  to  the  wmnan  bows; 

She  walks  in  earth's  whole  ^oty  tdad. 
And,  chiefest  far  herself  of  shows. 


The  fa 



The  worm  its  golden  woof  presents; 

Whatever  runs,  flies,  dives,  or  delves, 
All  doS  for  her  tfaeir  ornaniCTits, 

Which  suit  her  better  than  themselves; 
And  all,  by  this  their  power  to  give, 

Proving  her  right  to  take,  ppnclajm 
Her  beauty's  clear  prerogative 

To  profit  so  by  Eden's  blame. 



Til]  Eve  was  brou^t  to  Atkm,  he 

A  solitary  desert  trod, 
Though  in  the  great  sodety 

Of  nature,  angels,  and  of  God. 
If  one  slight  column  counterweighs 

The  ocean,  'tis  the  Maker's  law, 
Who  deems  obedience  better  praise 

Than  sacrifice  of  erring  awe. 


A  woman  is  a  foreign  land, 

Of-whicb,  though  there  he  settle  young, 
A  raaa  will  dc'ct  quite  understand 

The  customs,  politics,  and  tongue. 
The  foolish  hie  them  post-haate  through, 

See  fashions  odd  and  prospects  fair. 
Learn  of  the  language,  "How  d'ye  do," 

^d  go  and  brag  they  have  been  there. 
The  most  for  leave  to  trade  apply, 

For  once,  at  Empire's  seat,  her  heart. 
Then  get  what  knowledge  ear  and  eye 

Glean  chancewise  in  the  lif e-kug  matt. 
And  certain  others,  few  and  fit, 

Attach  them  to  the  Court,  and  see 
The  Country's  best,  its  acoent-hit. 

And  partly  sound  its  polity. 

CoKulry  P»more  [tSaj-iSoe] 


I  FILL  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone, 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming  paragon; 


Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

To  whom  the  better  elements 

And  kindly  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair,  that,  like  the  air, 

'Tis  lest  at  earth  than  heaven.  ' 

Her  cveiy  tone  is  music's  own, 

Like  those  of  morning  birds, 
And  something  more  than  melody 

Dwells  ever  in  her  words; 
The  coinage  of  her  heart  arc  they. 

And  from  her  hps  each  flows 
As  one  may  see  the  burdened  bee 

Forth  issue  from  the  rose. 

Affections  are  as  thoughts  to  her, 

The  measures  of  her  hours; 
Her  feelings  have  the  fragrancy, 

The  freshness  of  young  flowers; 
And  lovely  passions,  changing  oft, 

So  till  her,  she  appears 
TTie  image  of  themselves  by  turns, — 

The  idol  of  past  years! 

Of  her  bright  face  one  glance  «ill  tncti 

A  picture  on  the  brain, 
And  of  her  voice  in  echoing  hearts 

A  sound  must  long  remain; 
But  memory,  such  as  mine  of  her, 

So  very  much  endears. 
When  death  is  nigh  my  latest  ugh 

Will  not  be  life's,  but  hers. 

I  fill  this  cup  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone, 
A  woman,  of  her  gentle  sex 

The  seeming  paragon — 
Her  health!  and  would  on  earth  there  slood 

Some  more  (rf  such  a.  frune. 
That  life  might  be  all  poetry. 

And  weariness  a  name. 

Bdaard  Cmle  Pinkney  [iSoj-iSj. 

p:hy  Google 

Our  Sister  ^89 


Her  face  was  very  fair  to  see, 

So  luminous  with  purity:— 

It  had  no  roses,  but  the  hue 

Of  liKes  lustrous  with  their  dew — 

Her  very  soul  seemed  shining  throu^I 

Her  quiet  nature  seemed  to  be 

Tuned  to  each  season's  harmony. 

The  holy  sky  bent  near  to  her; 

She  saw  a  spirit  in  the  stir 

Of  solemn  woods.    The  rilla  that  beat 

Their  mosses  with  voluptuous  feet, 

Went  dripping  music  through  her  thought. 

Sweet  impulse  came  to  her  unsought 

From  graceful  things,  and  beauty  took 

A  sacred  meaning  in  her  look. 

In  the  great  Master's  steps  went  she 

With  patience  and  humility. 

The  casual  gazer  could  not  guess 

Half  of  her  veiled  loveliness; 

Yet  ah!  what  precious  things  lay  hid 

Beneath  her  bosom's  snowy  lid:"— 

What  tenderness  and  sympathy. 

What  beauty  of  sincerity. 

What  fancies  chaste,  and  loves,  ihat  grew 

In  heaven's  own  sUinless  light  and  dewl 

True  woman  was  she  day  by  day 
In  suffering,  toil,  and  victory. 
Her  life,  made  holy  and  serene 
By  faith,  was  hid  with  things  unseen. 
She  knew  what  they  alone  can  know 
Who  live  above  but  dwell  below. 

Horalio  ^'elsoii  Poviers  IiSaS-iSoo) 

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Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Her  thoughts  are  like  a  flock  of  butterflies. 

She  has  a  merry  love  of  little  things. 

And  a  bright  flutter  ofspecch,  whereto  she  brings 
A  threefold  elotiucnce— voice,  hands  and  eyesi 
Yet  under  all  a  subtle  silence  lies 

As  a  bird's  heart  is  hidden  by  its  wings; 

And  you  shall  search  through  many  wandenngs 
The  fairyland  of  her  realities. 

She  hides  herself  behind  a  busy  braiii— 
A  woman,  with  a  child's  laugh  in  her  blood; 
A  maid,  wearing  the  shadow  of  motherhood — 

Wise  with  the  quiet  memory  of  old  pain, 

As  the  soft  glamor  of  remembered  rain 
Hallows  the  gladness  of  a  sunlit  wood. 

Brian  Hooker  [iSSo- 


Who  dreamed  that  beauty  passes  like  a  dream? 
For  these  red  lips,  with  all  their  montufal  pride, 
Mournful  that  no  new  wonder  may  betide, 
Troy  passed  away  in  one  high  funeral  gleam, 
And  Usna's  children  died. 

We  and  the  labormg  world  are  passing  by: 
Amid  men's  souls,  that  waver  and  give  place. 
Like  the  pale  waters  in  their  wintry  race, 
Uttder  the  passing  stars,  foam  of  the  sky, 
Lives  on  this  lonely  face. 

Bow  down,  archangels,  in  your  dim  abode; 
Before  you  were,  or  any  hearts  to  beat, 
Weary  and  kind  one  lingered  by  His  seat; 
He  made  the  world  to  be  a  grassy  road 
Before  her  wandering  feet. 

William  BuiUr  I'eah  (1865- 


Dawn  of  Womanhood ' 


Tbvs  vQl  I  have  the  woman  of  my  dream. 

Strong  must  she  be  and  gentle,  like  a  star 
Her  soul  bum  whitely;  nor  its  arrowy  beam 

May  any  cloud  of  auperstitioa  mar: 

True  to  the  earth  she  is,  patient  and  calm. 
Her  tranquil  eyes  shdl  penetrate  afai 

Sacred  shall  be  the  purport  of  her  daya, 

Yet  human;  and  the  passion  of  the  earth 
Shall  be  for  her  adornment  and  her  praise. 

She  is  moet  often  joyous,  with  a  mirth 
That  lings  true-tempered  holy  womanhood. 

Festoons  and  coronab  of  the  golden  jddd. 

A  triumph  is  the  labor  of  her  soul. 
Sublime  along  eternity  revealed. 
Lo,  everlastingly  in  her  control. 

Under  the  even  measure  of  her  breath, 
like  crested  waves  the  onward  centuries  rdL 

Nor  to  far  heaven  her  spirit  wandereth, 

Not  lifteth  she  her  voice  in  banen  pr 

Nor  tranbkth  at  appearances  of  death. 

prayer, , 


595  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

She,  godlike  in  her  womanhood,  wiU  (are 

Calm-visaged  and  heroic  to  the  end. 
The  homestead  is  her  moat  especi&l  care; 

She  loves  the  sacred  hearth:  she  will  defend 

Her  ([ods  from  desecration  of  the  vile. 
Fierce,  like  a  wounded  tigress,  she  can  Tend 

Wfaatevei  may  have  entered  to  defile. 

I  see  her  in  the  evening  by  the  fire. 

And  in  her  eyes,  illumined  from  the  pile 

Of  blazing  logs,  a  motherly  desire 

Glows  like  the  moulded  passion  of  a  rose; 
Beautiful  is  her  presence  in  the  bower: 

Her  spirit  is  the  spirit  of  repose. 

Mankind  shall  hold  her  motherhood  in  awe: 
Woman  is  she  indeed,  and  not  of  those 

That  he  with  sacramental  gold  must  draw 
Discreetly  to  his  chamber  in  the  Right, 
Or  bind  to  him  with  fetters  of  the  law. 

He  holds  her  by  a  ^iritual  right. 

With  diamond  and  with  pearl  he  need  not  sue; 
Nor  will  she  deck  herself  for  his  delight: 

Beauty  is  the  adornment  of  the  true. 

She  shall  possess  for  ornament  and  gem 
A  flower,  the  glowworm,  or  the  drop  of  dew: 

More  iimocently  fair  than  all  of  them. 

It  will  not  even  shame  her  if  she  make 
A  coronal  of  stars  her  diadem. 

Though  she  is  but  a  vision,  1  can  take 

CouT&gc  from  her.    1  feel  .her  arrowy  beam 
Already,  for  her  ^tiiit  is  awake. 

And  passes  down  the  future  like  a  gleam,— 
Thus  have  I  made  the  woman  of  my  dream. 



She  walks— the  lady  of  my  delight— 

A  shqiherdess  of  sheep. 
Her  flocks  are  thoughts.  She  keeps  them  white; 

She  guards  them  from  the  sleep. 
She  feeds  them  on  the  fragrant  height, 

And  folds  them  in  for  sleep. 

She  roams  matern^  hills  and  bright, 

Dark  valleys  safe  and  deep. 
Into  that  tender  breast  at  night 

The  chastest  stars  may  peep. 
She  walks — the  lady  of  my  delight — 

A  shepherdess  of  sheep. 

She  holds  her  little  thoughts  in  sight, 

Though  gay  they  run  and  leap. 
She  is  so  circumspect  and  right; 

She  has  her  soul  to  keep. 

She  walks — the  lady  of  my  delight — 
A  shepherdess  of  sheep. 

Alice  Meyndi  [i8sj- 


MoiHEK  and  maid  and  soldier,  bearing  best 
Her  girl's  lithe  body  under  matron  gnO', 
And  opening  new  eyes  on  each  new  day 

With  faith  concealed  and  courage  untxtnfessed; 

Jealous  to  cloak  a  blessing  in  a  jest, 
Clothe  beauty  carefully  in  disarray. 
And  love  absurdly,  that  no  word  bclray 

The  worship  all  her  deeds  make  manifest: 

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394  Poems  of  Yoyth"  and  Age 


The  little  Dreams  of  Maidenhood — 

I  put  them  all  away 
As  tenderly  as  mother  would 

The  toys  of  yesterday, 
When  little  children  grow  to  men  . 

Too  over-wise  for  play. 

The  little  dreams  I  put  aside — 

I  loved  them  every  one, 
And  yet  since  moon-blown  buds  must  Md6 

Before  the  noon-day  sun, 
I  close  them  wistfully  away 

And  give  the  key  to  none. . 

0  little  Dreams  of  Maidenhood- 
Lie  quietly,  nor  care 

If  some  day  tn  an  idle  mood 
I,  searching  unaware 

Through  some  closed  comer  of  my  hearty 
Should  laugh  to  find  you  there, 

Tbeodosia  Garruon  [1874- 


Trdsty,  dusky,  vivid,  true, 

With  eyes  of  gold  and  brarable-den', 

Steel  true  and  blade  stmight 

The  great  Artificer  made  my  mate.  ' 

Honor,anger,  valor,  fire, 
A  iove  that  life  could  never  tire. 
Death  quench,  or  evil  stir, 
The  mighty  Master  gave  to  hec; 

Teacher,  tender  comrade,  wife, 
A  fellow-farer  true  through  life, 
Heart-whole  and  soul-free. 
The  August  Father  gave  to  me. 

Robert  Lauis  Staxnson  {iS5i>-iSmI 


The  Voice 

Without,  Ihe  worid  is  tired  and  old. 
But,  once  within  the  enchanted  door. 

Hie  mists  of  time  are  badtwaid  rolled, 
And  creeds  and  ages  are  no  more; 

But  all  the  human-hearted  meet 

In  one  communion  vast  and  sweet. 

I  enter— all  is  singly  fail. 

Nor  incense-clouds,  nor  carven  throne; 
But  in  the  fragrant  morning  air 

A  gentle  lady  sit^  alone; 
My  mother — ah!  whom  should  I  see 
Wkhin,  save  ever  only  thee? 

Digby  Wachcorth  Dolben  [1848-1867] 


As  I  went  down  the  hill  I  heard 

The  langhter  of  the  countryside; 
For,  rain  being  past,  the  whole  land  stirred 

With  new  emotion,  like  a  bride.  ^ 

I  scarce  had  left  the  grassy  lane. 

When  something  made  me  catch  my  breath: 
A  woman  called,  and  called  again, 

EimbeM  Eiaabetkl 


3^6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

It  was  my  mother's  name.    A  part 

Of  wounded  memory  sprang  to  tears. 
And  the  few  violets  of  my  heart 

Shook  in  the  wind  of  happier  years. 
Quicker  than  magic  came  the  face 

That  once  was  sun  and  moon  for  me; 
The  garden  shawl,  the  cap  of  lace, 

The  collie's  head  against  her  knee. 
Mother,  who  findest  out  a  way 

To  pass  the  sentinels,  and  stand 
Behind  my  chair  at  close  of  day, 

To  touch  me— almost ^TTith  thy  hand, 
Deep  in  my  breast,  how  sure,  how  clear, 

The  lamp  of  love  burns  on  till  death! — 
How  trembles  if  I  chance  to  hear 

misabetk!    MimhlU 

Norman  Gate  |i86i- 


I  HAVE  praised  many  loved  ones  in  my  song, 

And  yet  I  stand 
Before  her  shrine,  to  whom  all  things  belong. 

With  empty  hand. 
Perhaps  the  ripening  future  holds  a  tfnne 

For  things  unsaid ; 
Not  now;  men  do  not  celebrate  in  rhyme 

Their  daily  bread. 

Tkeraa  Ildbiira  tiSSS- 


Oft  in  the  after  days,  when  thou  and  I 
Have  fallen  from  the  scope  of  human  view, 
When,  both  together,  under  the  sweet  sky. 
We  sleep  beneath  the  daisies  and  the  dew, 
Men  will  recall  thy  gracious  presence  bland. 
Conning  the  pictured  sweetness  of  thy  face; 
Will  pore  o'er  paintings  by  thy  plastic  hand. 
And  vaunt  thy  skill  and  tell  thy  deeds  of  grace. 
Oh,  may  they  then,  who  cruwn  thee  with  tructtays. 
Saying,  "What  love  unto  her  son  she  bore!" 


C.  L.  M.  397 

Make  this  addition  to  thy  perfect  praise, 
"Nor  ever  yet  was  mother  worshipped  more!" 
So  shall  I  live  with  Thee,  and  thy  dear  fame 
Shall  link  my  love  unto  thine  honored  name. 

Jiilitm  Pane  [1817-1870] 

C.  L.  M. 
In  the  dark  womb  where  X  began. 
My  mother's  life  made  me  a  man. 
ThrougL  fdl  the  months  of  human  birth 
Her  beauty  fed  my  common  earth. 
I  cannot  sec,  nor  breathe,  nor  stir, 
But  through  the  death  of  some  of  her. 

Down  in  the  dariuieas  of  the  grave 
She  cannot  see  the  life  she  gave. 
For  all  her  love,  she  cannot  tell 
Whether  I  use  it  ill  ot  well. 
Nor  knock  at  dusty  doors  to  find 
Her  beauty  dusty  in  the  mind. 

If  tbe  grave's  gates  could  be  undone. 
She  would  not  know  her  little  son, 
I  am  so  grown.    If  we  ^ould  meet. 
She  would  pass  by  me  in  the  street, 
Unless  my  soul's  face  let  her  see 
My  sense  <A  what  she  did  for  mo. 

What  have  I  done  to  keep  in  mind 
My  debt  to  her  and  womankind? 
What  woman's  happier  life  repays 
Her  for  those  months  of  wretchal  days? 
For  all  my  mouthless  body  leeched 
Ere  Birth's  releasing  hell  was  reached? 
What  have  I  done,  01  tried,  or  said 
In  thanks  to  that  dear  woman  dead? 




With  such  a.  sky  to  le&d  him  on? 

The  dewy  ground  was  dark  and  cold; 
Behind,  all  gloomy  to  beboldj 
And  supping  nestward  seined 
A  kind  of  heavenly  destiny: 
I  iiked  the  greeting;  'twas  a  sound 
Of  something  without  place  <»  boundi 
And  seemed  to  give  me  spiritual  right 
To  travel  through  that  region  bright. 

The  voice  was  soft,  and  she  who  spake 
Was  walking  by  her  native  lake: 
The  salutation  had  to  me 
The  very  sound  of  courtesy; 
Its  power  was  feh;  tnd  while  my^yc 
Was  fixed  upon  the  glowing  Sky, 
The  echo  of  the  voice  enwrou^t 
A  human  sweetness  wUh  the  thon^t 
Of  travelling  through  the  world  that  ky 
Before  me  in  my  endless  way. 

WiUiatn  WordsvorHi  11770-1851^ 


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(to  queen  ELIZABETH) 

His  golden  locks  Time  hath  to  silver  turned; 

O  Time  too  swift,  0  swiftness  never  ceaang! 
His  youth  'gainst  time  and  age  hath  ever  spumed, 

But  spumed  in  vain;  youth  waneth  by  increaang: 
Beauty,  strength,  youth,  are  flowers  but  fading  seen; 
Duty,  faith,  love,  are  roots,  and  ever  green. 

His  helmet  now  shall  make  a  hive  for  bees; 

And  lovers'  sonnets  turned  to  holy  psalms, 
A  man-at-arms  must  now  serve  on  his  knees. 

And  feed  on  prayers,  which  are  Age  his  alms: 
But  though  from  court  to  cottage  he  depart. 
His  Saint  is  sure  of  his  unspotted  heart. 

And  when  he  saddest  sits  in  homely  cell, 
He  '11  teach  his  swains  this  carol  for  a  song, — 

"Blest  be  the  hearts  that  wish  my  sovereign  well. 
Curst  be  the  souls  that  think  her  any  wrong." 

Goddess,  allow  this  aged  man  his  right 

To  be  your  beadsman  now  that  wa^  your  knight. 

George  PttkUss»f-'S9in 


The  World's  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  Man 

Less  th&n  a  spant 
In  his  conception  wretched, — from  the  womb, 

So  to  the  tomb; 
Curst  from  his  cradle,  and  brou^t  up  to  yeaxs 

With  cares  and  fears. 
Who  then  to  frail  mortality  shall  trust, 
But  limns  on  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust. 

Yet  whilst  with  sorrow  here  we  live  opp;;es3^, 

What  life  is  best? 
Courts  are  but  only  superficial  schools 

To.  dandle  fools; 

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4Qp  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  rural  parts  are  turned  into  a  den 

Of  savage  men; 
And  where's  a  city  from  foul  vice  so  free. 
But  may  be  teemed  the  worst  of  all  the  threeP 

afflict  the  husband's  bed, 

IS  his  head: 

single,  take  it  for  a  curse, 

.hings  worse: 

'e  children;  those  that  have  them  moan 

1  them  gone: 
What  is  it,  then,  to  have,  or  have  no  wife, 
But  single  thraldom,  or  a  double  strife? 

Our  own  aiTections  still  at  home  to  please 

Is  a  disease; 
To  cross  the  seas  to  any  foreign  soil, 

Peril  and  toil;  ' 

Wars  with  their  noise  affright  us;  when  they  cease,  ^ 

.  We  are  worse  in  peace: 
^What  then  remains,  but  that  wc  still  should  cry . 
For  being  born,  or,  being  born,  to  die? 

Francis  Bacon  I1561-1S26I 


From  ■■  Tvrelllli  Nlglit " 

When  that  I  was  and  a  little  tiiiy  boy, 
With  hey,  ho,  the  wind  and  the  rain, 

A  foolish  thing  was  but  a  toy, 
For  the  rain  it  raineth  every  day. 

Bui  when  I  came  to  man's  estate, 
With  hey,  ho.  (he  wind  and  the  rain, 

'Gainst  knaves  and  thieves  men  shut  their  gate. 
For  the  rain  it  raineth  every  day. 

But  when  I  came,  alas!  to  wive, 

With  hey,  ho,  the  wind  and  the  rain, 

By  swaggering  could  I  never  thrive, 
For  the  rain  it  raineth  eveiy  day. 

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A  Lament  401 

But  when  I  came  unto  my  beds, 

With  bey,  ho,  the  wind  and  the  rain, 
With  toss-pots  still  had  drunken  heads; 

For  the  rain  it  raincth  every  day. . 

A  great  while  ago  the  world  beguni 
With  hey,  ho,  the  wind  and  the  rain. 

But  that 's  all  one,  our  play  is  done, 
And  we^ll  strive  to  please  you  every  day. 

Wiltiitm  Shakesftare  [1564-16161 

When  we  for  age  could  neither  read  nor  write, 
The  subject  made  us  able  to  indite; 
The  soul,  with  nobler  resolutioos  decked, 
lie  body  stooping  does  herself  erect. 
No  mortal  parts  are  requisite  to  raise 
Her  that,  unbodied,  can  hef  Mfli;ier  praise. 

The  seas  are  qwdt  wheo  the  winds  give  o'er; 
So  calm  are  we  when  passions  ace  no  more. 
For  then  we  know  how  vain  it  was  to  boast 
Oi  fleeting  thtn^  so  certain  lo  be  lost. 
Clouds  of  aflecti6n  from  our  younger  oyea 
Conceal  that  emptiness  which  age  descries. 

TTie  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  Time  has  made: 

Stronger  by  weakness,  wiser  nu:n  become 

.\s  they  draw  near  to  their  eternal  home. 

Leavinig  the  old,  both  worlds  at  once  they  view 

That  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  new. 

Edmund  Waller  [iCo6'i6g7| 



My  prime  of  youth  is  bnt  a  frost  of  cares;        ■ 
My  feast  of  joy  is  but  a  dish  of  parn; 

My  crop  of  com  ia  but  a  field  of  lares; 
And  all  my  good  is  but  vain  hope  of  gaio- 


402  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

The  day  is  fled,  and  yet  I  saw  no  aun; 
And  jiow  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  dond 

The  spring  is  past,  and  yet  it  is  not  spnug; 

The  fruit  is  dead,  and  yet  the  leaves  be  green; 
My  youth  ia  gone,  and  yet  I  am  but  Toun^; 

I  saw  the  world,  and  yet  I  iTas  not  seen; 
My  thread  is  cut,  and  yet  it  is  not  spun; 
And  now  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  done4 

I  sought  my  death,  and  found  it  in  roy  womb; 

I  looked  for  life,  and  saw  it  was  a  shade; 
I  trod  the  earth,  and  knew  it  was  my  tomb; 

And  now  I  die,  and  now  I  am  but  made; 
The  glass  h  full,  and  now  my  glass  is  run; 
And  now  I  live,  and  now  my  life  is  donel 

Ckiiioek  Tkkbofitt  iis5if-iSi6] 

In  the  down-hill  of  life,  when  I  find  I'm  dedining. 

May  my  fate  no  less  fortunate  be 
Than  a  snug  dbow-chair  will  afford  for  ledining, 

And  a  cot  that  o'»loohs  the  wide  sea; 
With  an  ambling  pad-pony  to  pace  o'er  the  lawn. 

While  I  carol  away  idle  sorrow, 
And  blithe  as  the  lark  that  each  day  hails  the  dawn. 

Look  forward  with  hope  for  Tomorrow. 

With  a  porch  at  my  door,  both  for  ahdter  and  shade  too, 

As  the  sun^ine  or  rain  may  prevail. 
And  a  small  spot  of  ground  for  the  use  of  the  spade  too. 

With  a  bam  for  the  use  of  the  flail: 
A  cow  for  my  dairy,  a  dog  for  my  game, 

And  a  purse  when  a  friend  wants  to  borrow; 
I'll  envy  no  Nabob  his  riches  or  fame, 

Nor  what  honors  may  wait  him  Tomorrow. 

From  the  bleak  northern  blast  may  my  cot  be  <:ompletely 

Secured  by  a  neighboring  hill; 
And  at  night  may  repose  steal  upon  me  more  sweetly 

By  the. sound  of  a  naurmuring  rill. 


Youth  and  Age  40, 

And  while  p«ux  and  jdMity  I  find  &t  my  board. 
With  a  faeart  free  from  sickness  and  sorrow, 

With  my.  friends  may  I  share  wha,t  Today  may  aSord, 
And  let  them  ^read  the  table  Tomonow. 

I^ong  wandering  in  the  winding  glade; 
And  now  the  torch  of  truth  is.  found, 

It  only  shows  us  where  we  strayed; 
By  long  experience  taught,  we  know — 

Can  rightly  judge  of  friends  and  foes; 
Can  all  the  worth  of  these  allow. 

And  all  the  faults  discern  in  those. 
Now,  'tis  our  boast  that  we  can  quell 

The  wildest  pas^ons  in  their  rage, 
Can  their  deKnialve  force  repel, 

And  their  impetuous  wrath  assuage.'— 
Ah,  Virtuel  dost  thou  arm  when  now 

This  bold  rebellious  race  an  fled? 
When  all  these  tyrants  rest,  and  thou 

Art  warring  with  the  mighty  dead? 

George  Crabbe  (1754- 

Veksx,  a  breeze  'mid  blossoms  str&ying, 

Where  Hope  clung  feeding  like  a  bee, — 
Both  were  minel    Life  went  a-maying  '■ 
With  Nature,  Hope,  and  Poesy 

When  I  was  young! 


,  404  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

When  I  «as  young? — ^.\h,  woful  Wben! 

Ah,  for  the  change  'twist  Now  and  Thent 
This  breathing  house  not  built  with  hands, 
This  body  that  does  mc  grievous  wrong, 

Flowers  are  lovely;  Love  is  flower-like; 
Friendship  is  a  sheltering  tree; 
Oh!  the  joys  that  came  down  shower-like. 
Of  Friend^ip,  Love,  and  Liberty 

Ere  I  was  old! 
£reIwasold?    Ah,  woful  Ere, 
Which  tells  me,  Youth's  no  longer  here! 

0  Youth!  for  years  so  many  and  sweet, 
'Tis  known  that  Thou  and  I  were  one. ' 
I'll  think  it  but  a  fond  conceit — 

It  cannot  be  that  Thou  art  gone! 
Thy  vesper-bell  haih  not  yet  toUedf— ■ 
And  thou  wert  aye  a  masker  bold! 
What  strange  diaguiae  hasi  now  put  on 
To  make  believe  that,  ihou  art  goiieP 

1  see  these  lodes  in  silvery  slips. 
This  drooping  gait,  this  altered  size: 
But  Springtide  blossoms  on  thy  lips. 
And  tears  take  sunshine  from  LhineAycs! 
Life  is  hut  thought:  so  ihink  I  will 
That  Youth  and  I  are  house-mates  still. 

Dewdiops  are  the  gems  of  morning. 
But  the  tears  of  mournful  eve! 
Where  do  hope  is,  life's  a  warning 
That  only  serves  to  make  us  grieve 

When  we  are  oldi 

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The  Old  Man's  Comforta  465- 

That  only  serves  to  make  us  grieve 
Wilh  oft  and  tedious  taking-leave, 



"Yon  are  old,  Father  William,"  the  young  man  cried; 

"The  few  locks  which  are  left  you  are  gray; 
You  are  hale.  Father  William, — a  hearty  old  man: 

Now  tell  me  the  reason,  I  pray." 

"In  the  days  of  my  youth  "  Father  William  replied, 
"I  remembered  that  youth  would  fly  fast, 

And  abused  not  my  heaJth  and  my  vigor  at  first, 
That  I  never  might  need  tbem  at  last." 

"You  arc  old.  Father  William,"  the  young  man  cried, 

"And  pleasures  with  youth  paes  away; 
And  yet  you  lament  not  the  days  that  are  gone: 

Now  tell  me  the  reason,  I  pray." 

"  In  the  days  of  my  youth,"  Father  William  replied, 
"I  remembered  that  youth  could  not  last; 

I  thought  of  the  future,  whatever  I  did. 
That  I  never  might  grieve  for  the  past." 

"You  are  old,  Father  William,"  the  young  man  cried, 

"And  life  must  be  hastening  away; 
You  are  cheerful,  and  love  to  converse  upon  death: 

Now  tell  me  the  reason,  I  pray." 

"I  am  cheerful,  young  man,"  Father  William  replied; 

"Let  the  cause  thy  attention  engage; 
In  the  days  of  my  youth,  I  remembered  my  God, 

.^nd  He  hath  not  forgotten  mv  oge." 

airrt  5#atfa?  (1TJ4-1843I 

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4o6  Poems  of  Youth  antl  Age 


I  was  indocile  at  an  age 

When  better  boys  were  taught, 
But  thou  at  length  hast  made  me  sage, 

If  I  am  sage  in  aught. 

Little  I  know  from  other  men, 

Too  little  they  from  me, 
But  thou  hast  pointed  well  the  pen 

That  writes  these  lines  to  thee. 

Thanks  for  expdJing  Fear  and  Hope, 

One  vile,  the  other  vain; 
One's  scourge,  the  other's  telescope, 

I  shall  not  see  again: 

Rather  what  lies  before  my  feet 

My  notice  shall  engage. — 
He  who  hath  braved  Youth's  dizzy  heat 

Dreads  not  the  frost  of  Age. 

Waiter  Savtie  Latui«r  (1775-1864] 


The  leaves  are  falling;  so  am  I; 

The  few  late  flowers  have  moisture  in  the  eye; 

So  have  I  too. 
Scarcely  on  any  bough  is  heard 
Joyous,  or  even  unjoyous,  bird 

The  whole  wood  throu^. 

Winter  may  come:  he  brings  but  nigher 
His  circle  (yearly  narrowing)  to  the  fire 


The  River  of  Life  407 

Where  (dd  friends  meet.   ■ 
Let  him;  now  heaven  is  overcast, 
And  spiiog  and  summer  both  are  past, 

And  all  things  Hweet. 

Wailtr  Smage  Laadar  [1775-1864] 


Yeass,  many  parti-colored  years, 
Some  have  crept  on,  and  some  have  flown 

Since  first  before  me  fell  those  tears 
I  never  could  see  fall  alone. 

Years,  not  so  many,  are  to  come. 
Years  not  so  varied,  when  from  you 

One  more  will  fall:  when,  carried  home, 
I  see  it  not,  nor  bear  Adieu. 

Walter  Socage  Landor  11775-1864] 


But  as  the  careworn  cheek  grows  wan, 

And  sorrow's  shafts  fly  thicliei, 
Ye  Stars,  that  measure  life  to  man. 

Why  seem  your  courses  quicker? 

When  joys  have  lost  their  bloom  and  breath. 

And  life  itself  is  vapid, 
Why,  as  we  reach  the  Falls  of  Death, 

Feel  we  its  tide  more  rapid? 

p:hy  Google 

■40(1  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

It  may  be  straofe — yet  who  would  change 

Time's  course  lo  slower  !q>eeding, 
When  one  by  one  our  friends  have  gone 

And  Icit  our  bosoms  bleeding? 

Heaven  gives  our  years  of  fading  strength 

Indemnifying  £ectnes5; 
And  those  of  youth,  a  seeming  length, 

Proportioned  to  their  swcetocas.'         . 

Thomas  CaMpbtU  (1777-1844] 


L0N6  time  a  child,  and  still  a  child,  when  years 

Had  painted  manhood  on  my  cheek,  was  I, — 

For  yet  I  lived  like  one  not  born  to  dje; 

A  thriftless  prodigal  of  smites  and  tears, 

No  hope  I  needed,  and  I  knew  no  fears. 

But  sleep,  though  sweet,  is  only  sleep;  and  waking, 

I  waked  to  sleep  no  more;  at  once  o'lsrtaking 

The  vanguard  of  my  age,  with  all  arrears 

Of  duty  on  my  back.    Nor  child,  nor  man, 

Nor  youth,  nor  sage,  I  find  my  head  is  gray. 

For  I  have  lost  the  race  I  never  r^n: 

A  rathe  December  blights  my  lagging  May; 

And  still  I  am  a  child,  though  I  be  old: 

Time  is  my  debtor  for  my  years  untold. 

Uarlley  Coleridge  [i  796-1849] 


Few,  in  the  days  of  early  youth. 
Trusted  like  me  in  love  and  truth. 
I've  learned  sad  lessons  from  the  years; 
But  slowly,  and  with  many  tears; 
For  God  made  me  to  kindly  view 
The  world  that  I  was  passing  thnnigb. 

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The  World  I  •Am  Passing  Through    403 

How  little  did  I  once  belitve 
That  friendly  tones  cpuld  e'er  dcceivel 
That  kindness,  and  forbearance  long. 
Might  meet  ingratitude  and  vrrcd^l 
I  could  not  help  but  kindly  view 
The  world  that  I  was  passing  througb. 

Fiom  faith  and  hope  to  drift  apart,— 

May  they  themselves  be  spared  the  pain 

Of  Ipsing  power  to  tmst  again! 

God  help  us  all  to  kindly  view 

The  world  that  we  are  pasang  through! 

Lyiia  itario  Ckiid  (iSo:i-igSo] 

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410  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


It  b  time  to  be  old, 

To  take  in  sail;— 

The  god  of  bounds. 

Who  sets  to  seas  a  shore, 

Came  to  mc  in  his  fatal  rounds, 

And  said:  "No  more! 

No  farther  shoot 

Thy  broad  ambitious  branches,  and  thy  root. 

Fancy  departs:  no  more  invent; 

Contract  thy  firmamtnt 

A  little  while 

Still  plan  and  smile, 

And,— fault  of  novel  germs, — 

Mature  the  unfallen  fruit. 

Curse,  if  thou  wilt,  thy  sires. 

Amid  the  Gladiators,  halt  and  numb." 

As  the  bird  trims  her  to  the  gale, 
I  trim  myadf  to  tbe  stona  of  time, 
I  man  the  rudder,  reef  the  sail, 
Obey  tbe  v^dce  at  eve  obeyed  at  prime: 


Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  411 

"Lowly  faithful,  baniBh  fear, 
Right  ODward  drive  unhunied; 
The  port,  well  wonb  the  cruise,  is  nesi, 
And  every  wave  is  cbanoed." 

Ralph  Waido  Emtrson  [1803-  iSSi] 

You  all,  nor  be  afraid!" 

Not  that,  amassing  flowers, 

Youth  sighed,  "Which  rose  make  ours. 
Which  Hly  leave  and  then  as  best  recall?" 

Not  that,  admiring  stars, 

It  yearned,  "Nor  Jove,  nor  Mars; 
Hine  be  some  figured  flame  which  bltnds,  transcends  them 

Not  for  such  hopes  and  fears 

Annulling  youth's  brief  years. 
Do  I  remoDStrate;  folly  wide  the  mark! 

Rather  I  prize  the  doubt 

Low  kinds  exist  without. 
Finished  and  finite  clods,  untroubled  by  a  spaik,    ' 

Poor  vaunt  of  life  indeed. 

Were  man  but  formed  to  feed 
On  joy,  to  solely  seek  and  find  and  feast: 

Such  feasting  ended,  then 

As  sure  an  end  to  men; 
Irks  care  the  crop-fnll  bird?    Frets  doubt  tbc  maw-cranuned 

Rejoice  we  are  allied 

To  that  which  doth  phivide 


412  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  not  partake,  effect  and  not  receive! 

A  spark  disLurbfl  our  clod; 

Nearer  we  hold  of  God 
Who  gives,  than  of  hia  tribes  lliat  take,  I  must  believe. 

Then,  welcome  each  rebuff 

That  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough, 
Each  sling  that  bids  nor  sit  nor  stand  but  go! 

Be  our  joys  three-parts  pain! 

Strive,  and  hold  cheap  the  strain; 
Learn,  nor  account  the  pang;  dare,  never  grudge  the  throel 

For  thence, — a  paradox 

Which  comforts  while  it  mocks,— 
Shall  life  succeed  in  that  it  seems  to  fail; 

What  I  aspired  to  be. 

And  was  not,  comforts  me; 
A  brute  I  might  have  been,  but  would  not  sink  i'  the  scale. 

Wliat  is  he  but  a  brute 

Whose  flesh  has  soul  to  suit. 
Whose  spirit  works  lest  arms  and  legs  want  play? 

To  man,  propose  this  test — 

Thy  body  at  its  best, 
How  far  can  that  project  thy  soul  on  its  lone  way? 

Yet  gifts  should  prove  their  use; 

I  own  the  Past  profuse 
Of  power  each  side,  perfecti&n  every  turn; 

Eyes,  ears  took  in  their  dole. 

Brain  treasured  up  the  whole: 
Should  not  the  heart  beat  once  "How  good  tt^.live  and 

Not  once  beat  "Praise  be  thine! 

I  see  the  wbole  design, 
I,  who  saw  power,  see  now  Love  perfect  too: 

Perfect  1  call  thy  plan: 

Thanks  that  I  was  a  man! 
Maker,  remake,  oon^etc, — I  trust  what  thDU  shall  do!" 


.  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  413. 

For  plessant  is  this  flesh; 

Our  soul,  in  its  roGe-taash 
Pulled  ever  to  the  earth,  bUU  yeuoa  fw  fe&t: 

Would  we  sonw  pruw  might  hold 

To  match  those  manifdd 
Posaessiora  of  the  brute,— gain  nuwl,  as  we  did  bestl 

Let  us  not  always  say, 

"Spite  ol  this  flesh  to-day 
1  strove,  made  head,  gained  ground  upon  the  whole! " 

As  the  bird  wings  and  sings, 

Let  us  cry,  "All  good  things 
Are  ours,  nor  soul  he^  flesh  more,  now,  than  flesh  hclpa 

From  ;h  in  the  gei 

And  I  shall  thereupon 

Take  rest,  ere  I  be  gone 
Once  more  on  my  adventure  hmvc  and  new: 

Fearless  and  unperplexed, 

When  I  wage  battle  next, 
What  weapons  to  select,  what  armor  to  indue. 

Youth  ended,  I  shall  try 

My  gain  or  loss  thereby; 
Leave  the  fire  ashes,  what  survives  is  gold; 

And  1  shall  weigh  the  same, 

Give  life  its  praise  or  blame: 
Voung,  all  lay  in  dispute;  I  shall  kmw,  being  <Ad. 

For  note,  when  evening  sbuta, 

A  certain  moment  cuts 
The  deed  o£f,  calls  tbe  ^ory  frotn  the. gray: 

A  whisper  from  the  west 

Shoots—"  Add  this  to  the  rest. 
Take  it  and  try  its  worth:  bcce  dies  anotbei  day." 


414  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

So,  still  within  thb  life, 

Though  lifted  o'er  its  strife. 
Let  me  discern,  compare,  pronounce  at  last, 

"This  rage  was  right  i'  the  main. 

That  acquiescence  vain: 
Tlie  Future  I  may  face  now  I  have  proved  the  FaatL" 

For  more  is  not  reserved 

To  man,  with  aoul  just  nerved 
To  act  to-morrow  what  he  learns  to^y: 

Here,  woric  enough  to  watch 

The  Master  work,  and  catch 
Hints  of  the  proper  craft,  tricks  of  the  tool's  true  play. 

As  it  was  better,  youth 

Should  strive,  through  acts  uncouth, 
Toward  making,  than  repose  on  aught  found  made: 

So,  better,  age,  exempt 

From  strife,  should  know,  than  tempt 
Further.    Thou  wajtedest  age:  wait  death  nor  be  afraldl 

Enough  now,  if  the  Right 

And  Good  and  Infinite 
Be  named  here,  as  thou  callcst  thy  band  thine  own, 

With  knowledge  absolute, 

Subject  to  no  dispute 
From  fools  that  crowded  youth,  nor  let  thee  feel  alone. 

Be  there,  for  once  and  all, 

Severed  great  minds  from  small. 
Announced  to  each  his  station  in  the  PastI 

Was  I,  the  world  arraigned, 

Were  they,  my  soul  disdained, 
Right?    Let  age  speak  the  truth  and  give  us  peace  at  lastl 

Now,  who  ^all  arbitrate? 

Ten  men  love  what  I  hate, 
Siun  what  I  follow,  aU^t  what  I  receive; 

Ten,  who  in  ears  and  eyes 

Match  me:  we  all  srnmise, 
Tliey  this  thbig,aiidl  tliat:wliDmshaUmys(wlbdieve? 

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Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  4IJ. 

Not  on  the  vulgar  mass 

Cailed  "work,"  must  sentence  pass; 
Things  done,  that  ttxA  the  ^e  and  had  the  price; 

O'er  which,  from  level  stand, 

The  low  world  laid  its  band, 
Found  strai^tway^  to  its  mind,  could  value  in  a  trice: 

But  all,  the  world's  coarse  thumb 

And  finger  failed  to  plumb, 
So  passed  in  toaking  up  the  main  ilccount; 

All  instincts  immature. 

All  purposes  unsure, 
IW  wdf^iednot  as  his  work,  yet  swelled  the  mao's  amount: 

Thoughts  hardly  to  be  packed 

Into  a  narrow  act, 
Fancies  that  broke  through  language  and  escaped; 

All  I  could  never  be, 

All,  men  ignored  in  me. 
This,  I  was  worth  to  God,  whose  wheel  the  pitcher  shaped. 

Ay,  note  that  Potter's  wheel. 

That  metaphor!  and  feel 
Why  time  spins  fast,  why  passive  lies  our  clay,— 

Thou,  to  whom  fools  propound, 

When  the  wine  makes  its  round, 
"Since  life  fleets,  all  is  change;  the  Past  gone,  seize  to-dayl " 

Fool!   AH  that  is,  at  all, 

Lasts  ever,  past  recall; 
Earth  changes,  but  thy  soul  and  God  stand  sure: 

What  entered  into  thee. 

Thai  was,  is,  and  shall  be: 
Time's  wheel  runs  back  or  stops:  Potter  and  day  endure. 

He  fixed  thee  'mid  this  dance 

Of  plastic  ciraunstaiice. 
This  Promt,  tl»u,  fonooth,  would  fain  arrest: 

Machinery  just  meant 

To  grvc  thy  soul  its  bent. 
Try  thee  aod  turs  thee  fcrth,  sufficiently  impieased. 


41 6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

What  though  the  earlier  grooves 

Which  ran  the  lau^iing  lof%3 
Around  thy  base,  no  longer  pause  and  presa? 

What  though,  about  thy  rim, 

Scull-things  in  order  grim 
Grow  oat,  in  graver  moDd,  obey  the  atenier  stress? 

Look  not  thou  down  but  up  I 

To  uses  of  a  cup, 
The  festal  board,  lamp's  flash  and  trumpet's  peal, 

The  new  wine's  foaming  flow. 

The  Master's  lips  a-glow! 
Thoa,  heaven's  consummate  cup,  what  needest  thou  witli 
earth's  wheel? 

But  1  need,  now  as  then, 

Thee,  God.  who  mouldcst  men; 
And  since,  not  even  while  the  whffl  was  worst. 

Did  I.— lo  the  wheel  of  life 

With  shapes  and  colors  rife. 
Bound  dizzily, — mistake  my  end,  to  slake  thy  thirst: 

So,  take  and  use  thy  work: 

Amend  what  flaws  may  lurk. 
What  strain  o'  the  stuff,  what  warpings  past  the  aim! 

My  times  be  in  thy  hand! 

Perfect  the  cup  as  planned! 
Let  age  approve  of  youth,  and  death  complete  the  samel 
Eoberl  Browtting  [iSia-igaal 


Sao  is  our  youth,  foe  it  is  ever  going, 
CrumbUng  away  beneath  our  very  feel; 
Sad  is  our  hfe,  for  onnaid  itfs  fiowing. 
In  current  unperceived  because  so  fleet; 
Sad  are  our  hopes  for  they  were  sweet  in  somng, 
But  tares,  self-sown,  have  overtopped  the  wheat; 
Sad  are  our  joys,  for  they  were  aweet  in  blowing; 
And  still,  0  still,  tbeic  dying  breath  is  sweet: 

p:hy  Google 

The  Isle  of  the  Long  Ago  417 

And  sweet  is  youth,  although  it  hath  bereft  us 
Of  that  which  made  our  childhood  sVeeUs  still; 
And  sweet  our  life's  decline,  for  it  hath  left  us 
A  nearer  Good  to  cure  an  older  III: 
.\nd  sweet  are  all  things,  when  wc  leam  to  prize  them  ' 
Not  for  their  sake,  but  His  who  grants  them  or  denies  them. 
Aubrey  Thomas  dc  Vere  [1814-1903] 


Froa  "  Ths  nMcr  Sitrn*  " 

When  all  the  world  is  young,  lad. 

And  alt  the  trees  are  green; 
And  every  goose  a  swan,  lad, 

And  every  lass  a  queen; 
Then  hey  for  boot  and  horse,  lad, 

And  round  the  worid  away; 
Young  blood  must  have  its  course,  l»d, 

And  every  dog  his  day. 

When  aU  the  wori^  is  old,  lad, 

And  aU  the  trees  axe  brown  j 
And  all  the  sport  is  stale,  lad. 

And  all  the  wheels  run  down: 
Creep  hooie,  and  take  youi  place  there, 

The  spent  and  maimed  among: 
God  gmnt  you  find  one  face  there 

You  loved  when  all  was  yonng. 


O!  A  wonderful  stream  is  the  River  Time, 

As  it  runs  through  the  realm  of  tears. 
With  a  faultless  rhythm  and  a  moiidal  rhyme. 
And  a  broader  sweep  and  a  surge  suUime, 
As  it  blends  with  the  Ocean  of  Yeare. 

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41 8  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

How  the  winters  are  drifting,  like  flakes  ol  snow, 

And  the  suoimers,  like  buds  between,  _ 

And  the  year  in  the  sheaf — so  they  amie  atid  tbey  go, 
On  the  river's  breast,  with  its  ebb  aitd  its  flow. 
As  it  glides  in  the  shadow  and  sheen. 

There's  a  magical  isle  up  the  River  Time, 

Where  the  softest  of  airs  are  playing; 
There's  a  cloudless  sky  and  a  tropical  clime, 
And  a  song  as  sweet  as  a  vesper  chime, 

And  the  Junes  with  the  roses  are  straying. 

And  the  name  of  the  isle  is  the  Long  Ago, 

And  we  bury  ourtreasures  there; 
There  arc  brows  of  beauly,  and  bosoms  of  snow; 
There  are  heaps  of  dust — but  we  loved  them  so! 

There  are  trinkets,  and  tresses  of  hair. 

There  are  fragments  of  song  that  nobody  sings. 

And  a  part  of  an  infant's  prayer; 
There's  a  lute  miswept,  and  a  harp  without  stxings; 
There  are  broken  vows,  and  pieces  of  rings, 

And  the  garments  that  She  used  to  wear; 

There  are  hands  that  are  waved,  when  the  foiry  shore 

By  the  mirage  is  lifted  in  air; 
And  we  sometimes  hear,  through  the  turbulent  roar, 
Sweet  voices  we  heard  in  the  days  gone  before, 

When  the  wind  down  the  river  is  fair, 

O!  remembered  for  aye  be  the  blessed  isle, 

All  the  day  of  our  life  till  night; 
When  the  evening  comes  with  its  beautiful  smile. 
And  our  eyes  are  closing  to  slumber  awhile, 

May  that  "Greenwood"  of  Soul  be  in  sight! 

Benjamin  Franklin  Taylor  (1819-1887] 


What  is  it  to  grow  old? 

Is  it  to  lose  the  glory  of  the  form, 

The  luBlre  of  the  eye? 


Growing  Old 

Is  it  for  beauty  to  forego  her  wealth? 
— Yes,  but  not  this  alOne. 

Is  it  to  feel  our  strength — 

Not  our  bloom  only,  but  our  strength — decay? 

Is  it  to  fed  each  limb 

Grow  stiffer,  every  function  less  exact. 

Each  nerve  more  loosely  strung? 

Yes,  this,  and  more;  but  not — 

Ah,  'tb  not  what  in  youth  we  dreamed  'twould  bel 

Tis  not  to  have  our  life 

Mellowed  and  softened  as  with  sunset  glow, 

A  golden  day's  decline. 

lis  not  to  see  the  world 

As  from  a  height,  with  rapt  prophetic  eyes, 

And  heart  profoundly  stirred; 

And  weep,  and  feel  the  fulnesa  ot  the  past, 

The  years  that  are  no  more. 

It  ii  to  spend  long  days 

And  not  once  feel  that  we  were  «ver  yoimg; 

It  is  to  add.  Immured 

In  the  hot  pristm  of  the  present,  month 

To  month  with  weary  pain. 

It  ia  to  suffer  this, 

And  feel  but  half,  and  feebly,  what  we  feel. 

Deep  in  our  hidden  heart 

Festers  the  dull  remembrance  of  a  change, 

But  no  emotion — none. 

It  is!— last  stage  of  ail- 
When  we  are  frozen  up  within,  and  quite 
He  phantom  of  ourselves, 
To  bear  the  world  applaud  the  hollow  ghost 
Which  blessed  the  living  man. 

IffaUhan  A'raoldliSii-iSiS] 

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430  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


The  clocks  are  chiming  in  my  heart 
Their  cobweb  chime; 
Old  murmurings  of  days  that  die, 
The  sob  of  things  a-drifting  by. 
The  clocks  are  chiming  in  my  heart! 

The  stars  have  twinkled,  and  gone  out — 
Fair  candles  blown! 
The  hot  desires  burn  low,  and  wan 
Those  ashy  fires,  that  9aroed  anon. 
The  stars  have  twinkled,  and  gone  out! 

John  Gal!Wartky  [[867- 


When  I  was  young  the  twiligfat  seemed  too  long. 
How  often  on  the  western  window-seat 

I  leaned  my  book  against  the  misty  pane 
And  spelled  the  last  enchanting  lines  again. 
The  while  my  motlter  hummed  an  ancient  song, 
Or  sighed  a  little  and  said:  "The  hour  is  sweet!" 
When  I,  rebellious,  clamored  for  the  light. 

But  now  I  love  the  soft  approach  of  night. 

And  now  with  folded  hands  I  sit  tmd  dretun 
White  alt  too  fleet  the  hours  of  twilight  seem; 

And  thus  I  know  that  I  am  growing  old. 

O  granaries  of  Age!    O  manifold 
And  royal  harvest  of  the  common  years! 
There  are  in  all  thy  treasure-house  no  ways 
But  lead  by  soft  descent  and  gradual  slope 
To  memories  more  exquisite  than  hope. 
Thine  is  the  Iris  born  of  olden  tears, 
And  thrice  more  happy  are  the  happy  days 
That  live  divinely  in  the  lingering  rays. 

3-  UaryF.  Sebimon  [1857- 


Forty  Years  On 


Votrm  hath  many  charms, — 
Hath  many  joys,  and  much  delight; 

Even  its  dou'bts,  and  vague  alarms. 
By  coDtrast  make  it  bright: 

And  yet — and  yet — forsooth, 
I  love  Age  as  well  as  Youthl 

Well,  since  I  love  them  both, 


Forty  years  on,  whin  afar  and  asunder 

Parted  are  those  who  are  singii^  today. 
When  you  look  back,  and  forgetfiUly  wonder 

What  you  were  like  in  your  work  and  your  play; 
ITien,  it  may  be,  there  will  often  come  o'er  you 

Glimpses  of  notes  like  the  catch  of  a  song- 
Visions  of  boyhood  shall  float  them  before  yoa, 
Echoes  of  dreamland  shall  bear  them  along. 
Follow  up!  Follow  up!  Follow  up!  Follow  up! 
Till  the  field  ring  again  and  again, 
With  the  tramp  of  the  twenty-two  men. 
Follow  up!  Follow  up! 

Routs  and  discomfitures,  rushes  and  rallies, 
Bases  attempted,  and  rescued,  and  won, 

Strife  without  anger,  and  art  without  malice, — 
How  wiH  it  seem  to  you  forty  y^rs  on? 

p:hy  Google 

4i2  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Then,  you  will  say,  not  a  feverish  minute 

Strained  the  weak  heart,  and  the  wavering  knee. 

Never  the  battle  raged  hottest,  but  in  it 
Neither  the  last  nor  the  faintest  were  we! 
Follow  up!  Follow  up! 

O  the  great  days,  in  the  distance  enchanted, 

Days  of  fresh  air,  in  the  rain  and  the  sun. 
How  we  rejoiced  as  we  struggled  and  panted — 

Hardly  believable,  fony  years  on! 
How  we  discoursed  of  them,  one  with  another, 

Auguring  triumph,  or  balancing  fate, 
Loved  the  ally  with  the  heart  of  a  brother. 

Hated  the  foe  with  a  playing  at  hate! 
Follow  up!  Follow  upl 

Forty  years  on.  growing  older  and  older, 

Shorter  in  wind,  and  in  memory  long. 
Feeble  of  foot  and  rheumatic  of  shoulder. 

What  will  it  help  you  that  once  you  were  strong? 
God  gives  us  bases  to  guard  or  beleaguer, 

Games  to  ^y  out,  whether  earnest  or  fun, 
Fights  for  the  feariess,  and  goals  for  the  eager. 

Twenty,  and  thirty,  aiul  forty  yeais  oal 
Follow  upl  Follow  up! 

Edwird  Enttsl  Bowen  [i3j6-igoi] 

Ite  fire  ia  out,  and  spent  the  warmth  thereof, 
(This  is  the  end  of  every  song  man  sings!) 
The  golden  wine  is  drunk,  the  dregs  remain, 
Bitter  as  wormwood  and  as  salt  as  pain; 
And  health  and  hope  have  gone  the  way  of  love 
Into  the  drear  oblivion  of  lost  things. 
Ghosts  go  along  with  us  until  the  end; 
This  was  a  mistress,  this,  perhaps,  a  friend. 
With  pale,  indifferent  eyes,  wc  sit  and  wait 
For  the  dropped  curtain  and  the  closing  gate: 
This  is  the  end  of  all  the  songs  man  sings. 

Emtit  DoTDson  (TS67-1Q00I 


The  Paradox  of  Time 



TmE  gots,  yoiLsay?    Ah  no! 
Alas,  Time  stays,  we  go; 

Or  else,  were  tbie  not  so. 
What  need  to  chain  the  houre. 
For  Youth  were  always  oura? 

Time  goes,  you  say? — ah  no  I 

Ours  is  the  eyes'  deceit 
Of  men  whose  flying  feet 

Lead  through  some  landscape  low; 
We  pa»,  and  think  we  see 
The  earth's  fixed  suiface  flee: — 

AIa«v  Time  aUys— we  go  I 

Once  in  the  days  of  old, 


Once,  whtm  my  v«ce  was  strcng, 
I  filled  the  woods  with  song 

To  praise  your  "  rose"  and  "snow"; 

My  bird,  that  sang,  is  dead;  ^ 

Where  are  your  roses  fled? 
Alas,  Time  stays— we  gol 

See,  in  what  traversed  ways, 
What  backward  Fate  delays 

The  hopes  we  used  to  know; 
Where  are  our  old  desires?— 
Ah,  where  those  vanished  fires? 

Time  goes,  you  say?— ah  not 


4^4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

How  far,  how  far,  O  Sweet, 
The  past  behind  our  feet 
Lies  in  the  even-glow! 

Now,  on  the  forward  way, 
Let  us  fold  hands,  and  pray; 
Alas,  Time  stays,— iw  gol 

Austin  DiAsoH  {1840- 

Snow  and  stars,  the  same  as  ever 
In  the  days  when  I  was  young, — 

But  their  silver  song,  ah  never, 
Never  now  is  sung! 

Cold  the  stars  are,  oM  the  earth  is. 

Everything  is  grim  and  cold! 
Strange  and  drear  the  sound  of  mirth  is — 

Life  and  I  are  old! 

WiUiam  WiiUr  (iSjfr-igiTl 

Dawn  drives  the  drean' 

Once,  in  a  tide  of  pal 
I  dreamed  I  wandered  c 

When  suddenly  the  b 

Still  it  was  Winter,  even  in  the  dream; 

There  was  no  )e^  nor  bud  nor  young  grasasprmging; 
The  skies  shone  cold  above  the  frost-bound  stream: 

It  was  not  Spring,  and  yet  the  birds  were  singing. 

BlackMrd  and  thrush  and  plaintive  willow-wren, 
Chaffinch  and  lark  and  linnet,  all  were  calling; 

A  golden  web  of  music  held  me  then, 
Innumerable  voices,  rising,  falling. 

O,  never  do  the  birds  of  April  sing 

More  sweet  than  in  that  dream  I  still  remember: 
Perchance  the  heart  may  keep  its  songs  of  Spring 

Even  through  the  wintry  dream  of  life's  December. 
Rosaumad  MarrioU  Walton  [i86j-tgii] 


An  Old  Man's  Song 


FtiLL  happy  is  the  man  who  comes  at  last 

Into  the  safe  completion  of  his  year; 
Weathered  the  perils  of  his  spring,  that  blast 

How  many  blossoms  promising  and  dear! 
And  of  his  summer,  with  dread  passions  fraught 

That  oft,  like  fire  through  the  ripening  com. 
Blight  all  with  moddog  death  and  leave  distraught 

Loved  ones  to  mourn  the  ruined  waste  forlorn. 
But  now,  though  autumn  gave  but  harvest  slight, 

Oh,  grateful  is  be  to  the  powers  above 
For  winter's  sunshine,  and  the  lengthened  night 

By  hearth-side  gerual  with  the  warmth  of  love. 
Through  silvered  days  of  vistas  ^Id  and  green 
Contentedly  he  glides  away,  serene. 

Timothy  Cole  [iSs"- 


Ye  are  young,  ye  are  young, 
lam  old,  I  am  old; 

And  the  song  has  been  sung 
And  the  story  been  told. 

Your  locks  are  as  brown 
As  the  mavis  in  May, 

Your  hearts  are  as  warm 
As  the  sunshine  to-day, 

But  mine  white  and  cold 
As  the  snow  on  the  brae. 

And  Love,  like  a  flower. 

Is  growing  for  you, 
Hands  clasping,  lips  meeting, 

Hearts  beating  so  true; 
While  Fame  like  a  star 
In  the  midnight  afar 

Is  flashing  for  you. 


426  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

For  you  the  To-come, 
But  for  me  the  Gone-by, 

You  are  panting  to  live, 

I  am  waiting  to  die; 
The  meadow  is  empty, 

No  flower  groweth  high, 
And  naught  but  a  socket 

The  face  of  the  sky. 

Yea,  howso  we  dream, 

Or  how  bravely  we  do; 
The  end  is  the  same. 

Be  we  traitor  or  true: 
And  after  the  bloom 

And  the  passton  is  past. 

Death  cometh  at  last. 

Richard  Lc  GaUUitnt  li86^ 



There's  no  dew  left  on  (he  daisies  and  dgver, 

There's  no  rain  left  in  heaven; 
I've  said  my  "seven  tiroes"  over  and  over, 

Seven  times  one  are  seven. 

I  am  old,  so  old,  I  can  write  a  letter; 

My  birthday  lessons  are  done; 
The  lambs  play  always,  they  know  no  better; 

They  are,  only  one  times  one. 

0  moont  in  the  night  I  have  seen  you  sailing 
And  shining  so  round  and  low; 

You  were  bright!  ah,  bright!  but  your  light  is  failing,— 
You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow. 

You  moon,  have  you  done  something  wrong  in  heaven 
That  God  has  hidden  your  face? 

1  hope  if  you  have,  you  will  soon  be  forgiven. 
And  shine  again  in  your  place. 


Songs  of  Seven  42 

0  velvet  bee,  you're  a  dusty  fellow, 
You've  powdered  your  legs  with  goldl 

0  brave  marsh  marybuds,  rich  and  yellow, 
Give  me  youi  money  to  hold! 

O  columbine,  open  your  Folded  wrapper, 
Where  two  twin  turtle-doves  dwell? 

0  cuckoopint,  toll  me  the  purple  dapper 
That  hangs  in  your  clear  green  bell! 

And  show  me  your  nest  with  the  young  ones  in  it; 
I  wOl  not  steal  them  away; 

1  am  old!  you  may  trust  me,  linnet,  linnet, — 
I  am  seven  times  one  to-day. 


You  bells  in  the  steeple,  ring,  ring  out  your  changes, 

How  many  soever  they  be, 
And  let  the  brown  meadow-lark's  note  as  he  ranges 

Come  over,  come  over  to  me. 

Yet  birds'  clearest  carol  by  fall  or  by  sw«fflihg 

No  magical  sense  conveys, 
And  bells  have  forgotten  their  old  art  (rf  tuning 

The  fortune  of  future  days 

"Turn  again,  turn  again,"  once  they  rang  cbeerily, 

While  a  boy  listened  alone; 
Made  his  heart  yearn  again,  musing  so  wearily 

All  by  himself  on  a  stone. 

p:hy  Google 

428  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  wish  and  I  wisli  thai  the  spring  wouM  go  faster. 

Nor  long  summer  bide  so  lale; 
And  I  could  grow  on  like  the  fonglovc  and  aster. 

For  some  things  are  ill  lo  wail. 

1  wait  for  the  day  when  dear  hearU  shall  discover, 
While  dear  hands  are  laid  on  my  head; 

"The  child  is  a  woman,  ihe  book  may  close  over. 
For  all  the  lessons  arc  said." 

I  wait  for  my  story ,^the  birds  cannot  sing  it, 

Not  one,  as  he  ats  on  the  tree; 
The  bells  cannot  ring  it.  but  long  years,  oh,  bring  it! 

Such  as  I  wisb  it  to  be. 


I  LEANED  out  of  window,  I  smelt  the  white  clover, 
Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  oot  the  gate; 
"Now,  if  there  be  footsteps,  he  comes,  my  one  lover,— 
Hush,  nightingale,  hush!  O  sweet  nightingale,  wait 
Till  I  listen  and  hear 
If  a  step  drawetb  near, 
For  my  love  be  is  late! 

"The  skies  in  the  darkness  stoop  nearer  and  nearer, 

A  cluster  of  stars  hangs  like  fruit  in  the  tree, 
The  fall  of  the  water  comes  sweeter,  comes  clearer: 
To  what  art  thou  listening,  and  what  dost  thou  see? 
Let  the  star-clusters  grow, 
Let  the  sweet  waters  flow, 
And  cross  quickly  to  me. 

"You  night-moths  that  hover,  where  honey  brims  over 

From  sycamore  blossoms,  or  settle  or  sleep; 
You  glowworms,  shine  out,  and  the  pathway  discover 
To  him  that  comes  darkling  along  the  rough  steep. 
Ah,  my  sailor,  make  haste. 
For  the  time  runs  to  waste, 
And  my  love  lieth  deep, — 


Songs  of  Seven  a^9 

"Too  deep  for  swift  tcBing;  and  yet,  my  one  lover, 

I've  conned  thee  an  answer,  it  waits  thee  to-night." 
By    the    sycamore   passed    he,   and    through    the    white 

Then  all  the  sweet  speech  I  had  fashiooed  took  flight; 
But  I'U  love  him- more,  more 
Than  e'er  wile  loved  before, 
Be  the  days  dark  or  bright. 


Heigh-ho!  daisies  ai>d  buttercups! 

Fair  yellow  daf[o«lils,  stately  and  tall! 
When  the  wind  wakea  how  they  rods,  in  the  giasxs, 

And  dance  with  the  cuckoo-buds  skndcr  and  small  1 
Here's  two  bonny  boys,  and  here's  mother's  own  lasses, 

Eager  to  gather  them  all. 

Heigh-ho!  dwsics  and  buttemips; 

Mother  shall  thread  them  a  daisy  chain; 
Sing  them  a  song  of  the  pretty  hedge -spiarrow. 

That  loved  her  brown  little  ones,  loved  them  full  fain; 
Sing,  "Heart,  thou  art  wide  though  the  house  be  but  nar- 

Sing  once,  and  ^ng  it  again. 

Heigh-ho!  daisies  and  buttercups! 

Sweet  wagging  cowslips,  they  bend  and  they  bow; 
A  ship  sails  afar  over  warm  ocean  waters. 

And  haply  one  musing  doth  stand  at  her  prow. 
O  bonny  brown  sons,  and  0  sweet  little  daughters. 

Maybe  he  thinks  of  you  now. 

Hogh-ho!  daisies  and  buttercups! 

Fair  yelkw  daffodils,  stately  and  tall! 
A  sunshiny  world  full  of  laughter  and  kbure. 

And  fresh  hearts  unconscious  of  sorrow  and  thrall! 
Send  down  on  their  pleasure  smiles  passing  its  measure, 

God  that  is  over  us  aU! 

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430  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


I  SLEEP  and  rest,  my  heart  makes  moan 

Before  I  am  well  awake; 
"l*t  me  bleed!    0  let  me  alone, 

Since  I  must  not  break!" 

For  children  wake,  though  fathers  sleep 
With  a  stone  at  foot  and  at  head: 

0  sleepless  God,  forever  keep. 
Keep  both  living  and  dead  I 

1  lift  mine  eyes,  and  what  to  aee 
But  a  world  happy  and  fairl 

I  have  not  wished  it  to  mourn  with  me,— 
Comfort  is  not  then. 

Ofa,  what  anear  but  golden  bniOBis, 

But  a  waste  of  reedy  rills! 
Oh,  what  afar  but  the  fine  glooms 

On  the  rare  blue  hillsl 

I  shall  not  die,  but  live  forlore, — 

How  bitter  it  is  to  part! 
Oh,  to  meet  thee,  my  love,  once  morel 

0  my  heart,  my  heart! 

No  more  to  hear,  no  more  to  see! 

Oh,  that  an  echo  might  wake 
And  waft  one  note  of  thy  psalm  to  me 
Ere  my  heart-strings  break! 

I  should  know  it  how  fafnt  soe'er. 

And  with  angel  voices  blent; 
Oh,  once  to  feel  thy  spirit  anear; 

1  could  be  content! 

Or  once  between  the  gates  of  gold. 
While  an  entering  angel  trod. 

But  once, — thee  silting  to  behold 
On  the  hills  of  GodI 

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Songs  of  Seven  4J1 


To  bear,  to  nurse,  to  rew. 

To  watdi,  and  then  to  lose: 
To  see  my  bri|^t  ones  disappear. 

Drawn  up  like  moming  dews, — 
To  bear,  to  xtiuse,  to  leu, 

To  watch  and  then  to  Iok: 
This  have  I  done  when  God  drew  ncM 

Among  bis  own  to  choose. 

To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed, 

Aod  with  thy  lord  depart 
In  tears,  that  he,  as  soon  as  shed. 

Will  let  no- longer  smart, — 
To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed. 

This  while  thou  didst  I  smiled. 
For  now  it  was  not  God  who  said, 

"Mother,  give  me  thy  child." 

0  fond,  O  fool,  and  bHndl 

T»  God  I  gave  with  tears; 
But  when  a  man  like  grace  would  find, 

My  soul  put  by  her  feara, — 
O  f<md,  O  fool,  and  Mind! 

God  guards  In  happier  spheres; 
That  man  will  guard  where  be  did  bind 

Is  hc^  for  unknown  years. 

To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed, 

Fair  lot  that  maidens  choose, 
Thy  mother's  Lenderest  words  are  said, 

Thy  face  no  more  she  views; 
Thy  mother's  lot,  my  dear, 

She  doth  in  naught  accuse;         ,,,  ,ji(i;i  A 
Her  lot  to  bear,  ta  JlWOMritQiISHrjidiKw  vi  rk«  A 

Tolove,— aiiiitheO(i6oJ<tsHt  ■jAA-lmo/  liAl 

SEVEN  TIMES  SE;v»«>TrtP?*PWft.ieft^>lffl.);H  1 
A  SONG  of  a  boat:— I  i'l'l-^'^  .X'l'l^^rf  ,riA 

LighUy  ae'JfeekeaityTi«'!()brti«hweH'=  ■<'^'"" 


.432  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  die  foam  was  white  in  her  wake  like  snow, 
And  her  frail  mast  bowed  when  the  breeze  would  blow. 
And  bent  like  a  wand  of  willow. 

I  shaded  mine  eyes  one  day  when  a  boat 

Went  curtsying  over  the  biUon, 
I  marked  her  course  till  a  dandng  mote, 

She  faded  out  on  the  moonlit  loam, 

And  T  stayed  behind  in  the  dear-loved  home; 
And  my  thoughts  all  day  were  about  the  boat. 

And  my  dreams  upon  the  pillow. 

I  pray  you  hear  my  song  of  a  boat 

For  it  is  but  short:— 
My  boat  you  shall  find  none  fairer  afloat. 

In  river  or  port. 
Long  I  looked  out  for  the  lad  she  bore, 

On  the  open  desolate  sea, 
And  I  think  he  sailed  to  the  heavenly  shore. 

For  he  came  not  back  to  me — 

Ah  mel 
A  song  of  a  nest: — 

There  was  once  a  nest  in  a  hollow: 
Down  in  the  mosses  and  knot-grass  pressed, 
Soft  and  warm  and  full  to  the  brim^ 
Vetches  learted  over  it  purple,  and  dim, 

With  buttercup  buds  to  follow. 

I  pray  you  hear  my  song  of  a  nest, 

For  it  is  not  long: — 
You  shall  never  l^ht  in  a  summer  quest 

The  bushes  among — 
Shall  never  light  on  a  prouder  sitter, 

A  fairer  nestful,  nor  ever  know 
A  softer  sound  than  their  tender  twitter, 

That  wind-like  did  come  and  go. 

I  had  3  nestful  once  of  my  own. 

Ah,  happy,  happy  1 ! 
Right  dearly  I  loved  them;  but  when  they  were  grown 

They  spread  out  their  wings  to  fly — 


Songs  of  Seven 

Oh,  one  after  one  they  flew  away 
Far  up  to  the  heavenly  blue, 

To  the  better  country,  the  upper  day. 
And — I  wish  I  was  going  too. 

I  pray  you  what  is  the  nest  to  me. 

JtOH  Interne  [iS2o~iSgT) 

D,g,t,7P:hy  Google 


Happy  those  early  days,  when  I 
Shined  in  my  Angel'in fancy! 
Before  I  understood  this  place 
Appointed  for  my  second  lace. 
Or  taught  my  soul  to  fancy  aught 
But  a  white,  celestial  thought; 
When  yet  I  had  not  walked  above 
A  mile  or  two  from  my  first  Love, 
And  looking  back,  at  that  short  q>ace 
Could  see  a  glimpse  of  His  bright  face; 
When  on  some  gilded  cloud  oi  flower 
My  gazing  soul  would  dwell  an  hour. 
And  in  those  weaker  glories  spy 
Some  shadows  of  eternity; 
Before  I  taught  my  tongue  to  wound 
My  Conscience  with  a  sinful  sound. 
Or  had  the  black  art  to  dispense 
A  several  sin  to  every  sense; 
But  felt  through  all  this  fleshly  di^ss 
Bright  shoots  of  everlastingness. 

O  how  I  long  to  travel  back, 
And  tread  again  that  ancient  trackl 
That  I  might  once  more  reach  that  plain 
Where  first  I  left  my  glorious  train; 
From  whence  the  enlightened  spirit  sees 
That  shady  City  of  Pahn-trecs. 
But  ah!  my  soul  with  too  much  stay 
Is  drunk,  and  staggers  in  the  way! 
Some  men  a  forward  motion  love, 
But  I  by  backward  steps  would  move; 
And,  when  this  dust  falls  to  the  um. 
In  that  state  I  came,  return. 

Henry  VaugkiM  [1612- 


Castles  in  the  Air  435 

LooE  in  my  face;  my  name  is  Mif^t-have-becn; 
I  am  also  cafled  NcMBoce,  Too^te,  Fanwdl; 
Unto  thine  ear  I  hold  the  dead-sea  shell 
Cast  up  thy  Life's  foam-fretted  feet  between; 
Unto  thine  ejres  the  ^ass  where  that  is  seen 
Which  had  Life's  form  and  I^ove's,  but  by  my  spell 
Is  now  a  shaken  shadow  intolerable, 
Of  ultimate  things  unuttered  the  frail  screen. 
Mark  me,  how  still  I  am!    But  should  there  dart 
One  moment  through  thy  soul  the  soft  surprise 
Of  that  winged  Peace  whidi  lulls  the  breath  of  sighs,— 
Then  shall  thou  see  me  smfle,  and  turn  apart 
Thy  visage  to  mine  ambush  at  thy  heart 
Sle^less  with  cold  commemorative  eyes. 

DoHle  Gabriei  RosiOH  liiii-iiiii 

Wren  to  the  garden  of  untroubled  thou^t 
I  came  of  late,  and  saw  the  open  door, 
And  wished  agab  to  enter,  and  explore 
The  sweet,  wild  ways  with  stainless  bloom  inwrought, 
And  bowers  of  innocence  with  beauty  fraught. 
It  seemed  some  purer  voice  must  speak  before 
I  dared  to  tread  that  garden  loved  of  yore, 
That  Eden  lost  unknown  and  foand  unsoui^.    "" 
llien  just  within  the  gate  I  saw  a  child, — 
A  stranger-diild,  yet  to  my  heart  most  dear, — 
Who  held  his  hands  to  me  and  softly  smiled 
With  eyes  that  knew  no  shade  of  sin  or  fear; 
"Come  in,"  he  said,  "and  play  awhile  with  me; 
I  am  the  little  child  you  used  to  be." 

Henry  Van  Dyke  liisi- 

Hy  tbon^ts  by  night  are  often  filled 

With  visions  false  as  fair: 
For  in  the  I*a£t  alooe  I  build 

My  castlea  in  the  air. 


436  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

I  dwell  not  now  on  what  may  be; 

Night  shadows  o'er  the  scene; 
But  still  my  fancy  wanders  free 

"Hirough  that  which  might  have  b«n. 

TbctKos  Lam  Peacock  |i78i-(866]. 


Across  the  fields  of  yesterday 
He  sometimes  comes  to  me, 

A  little  lad  just  back  from  play— 
The  lad  I  used  to  be. 

And  yet  be  smiles  so  wistfully 

Once  he  has  crept  within, 
I  wonder  if  he  hopes  to  see 

The  man  I  might  have  been. 

Thomas  S.  Jena,  Jr.  [1882- 

Where  are  they  gone,  and  do  yon  know 

If  they  come  back  at  fall  o'  dew, 
The  liltle  ghosts  of  long  ago, 

That  long  ago  were  youf 

And  all  the  songs  that  ne'er  were  sung. 

And  all  the  dreams  that  ne'er  came  true, 
L^e  little  children  dying  young — 

Do  they  come  back  to  you? 

Thomas  S.  Jones,  Jr.  [i8Sj- 

M\'  OTOER   ME 
Children,  do  j'ou  ever, 

In  walks  by  land  or  sea, 
Meet  a  little  maiden 

Long  time  lost  to  mc? 

She  is  gay  and  gladsome. 

Has  a  lauj^iing  face, 
And  a  heart  as  sunny; 

And  her  name  is  Cracif. 

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A  Shadow  Boat 

Naught  ^e  knows  of  sorrow, 
Naught  of  doubl  or  blighl; 

Heaven  is  just  above  her— 
All  her  thoughts  axe  whke. 

Long  lime  since  I  lost  t>er. 

That  other  Me  of  mine; 
She  crossed,  into  Time's  shadow 

Out  of  Youth's  sunshine. 

Now  the  darkness  keeps  her; 

And.  call  her  as  I  will, 
The  years  that  lie  between  us 

Hide  her  from  me  still. 

I  am  dull  and  pain-worn, 

And  lonely  aa  can  be — 
Oh,  children,  if  you  meet  her. 

Send  back  my  other  Me! 

Gract  Dmio  UtekfidI  {1849- 


Undeb  my  keel  another  boat 

Sails  as  I  sail,  floats  as  I  float; 
Silent  and  dim  and  mystic  still, 

It  steals  through  that  weird  nether-woild, 
Mocking  my  power,  thongh  at  my  will 

The  foam  before  its  [»x>w  is  curled, 

Or  calm  it  lies,  with  canvas  furled. 

Vainly  I  peer,  and  fain  would  see 
What  phantom  in  that  boat  may  be: 

Yet  half  I  dread.  lest  I  with  ni(h 
Some  ghost  of  my  dead  past  divine. 

Some  grarious  shape  of  my  lost  youlh, 
Whose  deathless  eyes  once  fixed  on  mine 
Would  draw  me  downward  through  the  brine! 
AtU>  Bala  [18 jo- 


438  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Sing  me  a  song  of  a  lad  that  is  gone; 

Say,  could  that  lad  he  I? 
Merry  of  soul  he  sailed  on  a  day 

Over  the  sea  to  Skye. 

Mull  was  astern,  Rum  on  the  port) 

Eigg  on  the  starboard  bow; 
Glory  of  youth  glowed  in  his  soul: 

Where  is  that  glory  now? 

Sing  me  a  song  of  a  lad  that  is  gone; 

Say,  could  thai  lad  be  I? 
Merry  of  soul  he  sailed  on  a  day 

Over  the  sea  to  Skye. 

Give  roe  again  all  that  was  there, 

Give  me  the  sun  that  shone! 
Give  me  the  eyes,  give  me  the  soul, 

Give  me  the  lad  that's  gone! 

Sing  me  a  song  of  a  lad  that  is  gone; 

Say,  could  thai  lad  he  I? 
Merry  of  soul  he  .sailed  on  a  day 

Over  the  sea  to  Skye. 

Billow  and  breeze,  islands  and  seas, 

Mountains  of  rain  and  sun, 
AU  that  was  good,  all  that  was  fair, 

All  that  was  me  is  gone. 

Roberi  ImHs  Sietauon  {1850-1804] 


"I'm  growing  old,  I've  sixty  yeaxa; 

I've  labored  all  my  life  in  vain. 
In  all  that  time  of  hopes  and  fears, 

I've  failed  my  dearest  wish  to  gain. 

•  For  the  original  of  this  poem  see  page  3844- 



I  see  full  weU  that  here  below 
Bliss  uoalloyed  there  b  for  none; 

My  prayer  would  else  fulfilment  know- 
Never  have  I  seen  Carcassonne! 

"You  see  the  city  frcMo  the  hill, 

It  lies  beyond  the  mountains  blue; 
And  yet  to  reach  it  one  must  still 

Five  long  and  weary  leagues  putsue, 
And,  to  return,  as  many  more. 

Had  but  the  vintage  plenteous  grown^ 
But,  ah!  the  grape  Withheld  its  store. 

I  shall  not  look  on  Carcassonne  I 

"They  tell  me  every  day  is  there 

Not  more  or  less  tiian  Sunday  gay; 
In  shining  robes  and  garments  fair 

The  people  walk  upon  their  way. 
One  gazes  there  on  castle  walls 

As  grand  as  those  of  Babykm, 
A  bishop  and  two  generals! 

What  jay  to  dwell  in  Carcassonne! 

"The  vicar's  right:  he  says  that  we 

Are  ever  wayward,  weak,  and  blind; 
He  tells  us  in  his  homily 

Ambition  ruins  all  mankind; 
Yet  could  I  there  two  days  have  spent, 

While  still  the  autumn  sweetly  shone, 
Ah,  me!  I  might  have  died  content 

When  I  bad  looked  an  Carcassotme. 

"Thy  pardon.  Father,  I  beseech. 

In  this  my  prayer  if  I  o&end; 
One  something  sees  beyond  his  reach 

From  childhood  to  his  jouiney  's  end. 
My  wife,  our  little  boy,  Aignan, 

Have  travelled  even  to  Nartwnne; 
My  grandchild  has  seen  Perpignan; 

And  I — have  not  seen  Carcassonne!" 

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44®  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

So  crooned,  one  day,  close  by  Limoux, 

A  peasant,  double-bent  with  age. 
"Rise  up,  my  friend,"  said  I;  "with  you 

III  go  upon  this  pilgrimage." 
We  left,  next  morning,  his  abode. 

But  (Heaven  forgive  him!)  half-way  on 
The  old  man  died  upon  the  road. 

He  never  gazed  on  Carcassonne. 
Trandattd  by  John  R.  Thompson  from  the  French  of 
Custatt  NoJifiid  liSao-   i    ] 


Old  Sorrow  I  shall  meet  again. 

And  Joy.  perchance— but  never,  never, 

Happy  Childhood,  shall  we  twain 
See  each  other's  face  forever! 

And  yet  I  would  not  call  thee  back, 
Dear  Childhood,  lest  the  sight  of  me. 

Thine  old  companion,  on  the  rack 
Of  Age,  should  sadden  even  thee. 

John  Banister  Taib  [1845-1909] 

Omce,  when  I  was  little,  as  the  summer  night  was  falling. 
Among  the  purple  upland  fields  1  lost  my  bareroot  way; 
The  road  to  home  was  hidden  fast,  and  frightful  shadows, 
Along  the  sky-line,  swallowed  up  the  last  kind  light  of 

And  then  I  seemed  to  hear  you 

In  the  twilight,  and  be  near  you; 
Seemed  to  hear  your  dear  voice  calling — 
Through  the  meadows,  calling,  calling — 

And  I  followed  and  I  found  you. 

Flung  my  tired  arms  around  you, 
And  rested  on  the  mother-breast,  returned,  tired  out  from 





Down  the  days  team  tbat  day,  tboitgh  I  trod  strange 
paths  unheeding, 
Thou^  I  chased  the  jack -o' -Ian  Leins  of  so  many  mad- 
dened ycsss. 
Though  1  never  looked  behind  me,  where  the  home-lights 
were  receding, 
Though  I  never  looked  enough  ahead  to  ken  the  Inn  of 
StiU  I  knew  your  heart  was  near  me. 
That  your  ear  was  strained  to  hear  me, 
That  your  love  would  need  no  pleading 
To  forgive  me,  but  was  pleading 
Of  its  self  that,  in  disaster, 
I  should  run  to  you  the  faster 
And  be  sure  that  I  was  dearer  for  your  sacrifice  of  tears. 

Kow  on  life 's  last  Summertime  the  long  last  dUsk  is  falling, 
And  I,  who  trod  one  way  so  long,  can  tread  no  other  way 
Until  at  death's  dim  crossroads  I  watdi,  hesitant,  the 
Night-passages  that  maze  me  with  the  ultimate  dismay. 
Then  when  Death  and  Doubt  shall  blind  me — 
Even  then— I  know  you'll  find  mc: 
I  shall  hear  you.  Mother,  calling — 
Hear  yon  calling — calling — caliinc : 
I  shall  fight  and  follow — find  you 
Thou^  the  grave-clothes  swathe  and  bind  you. 
And  I  know  your  love  will  answer:  "Here's  my  laddie 
home  from  play!" 

Reginald  WrigU  Kaufman  [1877- 


The  world  was  wide  when  I  was  young, 
My  schoolday  hills  and  dales  among; 
But,  oh,  it  needs  no  Puck  to  put. 
With  whipping  wing  and  flying  foot, 
A  girtBe  'round  the  narrow  sphere 
In  which  I  labor  now  and  berel 


44^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Life's  face  was  fair  when  cardess  I 
First  loved  beneath  an  April  sky. 
And  wept  those  fine-imagined  woes 
Thai  Youth  at  nineteen  thinks  it  knows; 
Now  love  and  woe  both  run  so  de^ 
I  have  not  any  time  to  we^. 

No  matter;  though  at  last  we  see 
That  what  was  could  not  always  be. 
It  girds  our  loins  and  steels  our  hands 
In  duller  days  and  smaller  lands 
To  recollect  the  country  where 
The  world  was  wide  and  life  was  fair. 

RegitiM  Wright  Kaufman  I187T- 

There  is  a  temfJe  in  my  heart 

Where  moth  or  rust  can  never  come, 
A  temple  swept  and  set  apart, 

To  make  my  soul  a  home. 
And  round  about  the  dojrs  of  Jt 

Hang  garlands  that  forever  last, 
That  gathered  once  are  always  sweet; 

The  roses  of  the  Past! 

A.  Mary  P.  Rabinsen  (iSjt- 

Like  the  ghost  of  a  dear  friend  dead 

Is  "nme  long  past. 
A  tone  which  is  now  forever  fled,  • 

A  hope  which  is  now  forever  past, 
A  love  so  sweet  it  could  not  last, 

Was  Time  long  past. 
There  were  sweet  dreams  in  the  night 

Of  Time  long  past: 
And,  was  it  sadness  or  delight, 
Each  day  a  shadow  onward  cast 
Which  made  us  wish  it  yet  might  last, — 

That  Time  long  past. 


I   Remember,  I   Remember"        443 

There  is  regret,  almost  remorse. 

For  Time  long  past. 
Tis  like  a  child's  belovW  corse 
A  father  watches,  till  at  last 
Beauty  is  like  remembrance,  cast 

From  Time  long  past. 

Percy  Bysske  Shdley  [it9i-iSi>1 


I  remember,  1  remember 
The  roses,  red  and  mhite, 
The  violets,  and  the  Hy-cupa — 
Those  flowers  made  of  light ! 
The  lilacs  where  the  robin  built. 
And  where  my  brother  set 
The  bbumum  on  bis  birthday,— 
The  tree  is  living  yet! 

I  remember,  I  remember 

Where  I  was  used  to  swing, 

And  thought  the  air  must  rush  as  fresh 

To  swallows  on  the  wing; 

My  spirit  flew  in  feathers  then 

That  is  so  heavy  now, 

"ITie  summer  pools  could  hardly  cool 

The  fever  on  my  brow. 

I  remember,  I  remember 
The  fir-trees  dark  and  high; 
I  used  to  think  their  slender  tops 
Were  close  against  the  sky: 

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444  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

It  was  a  childish  igDorance, 

But  now  'tis  iilUe  joy 

To  know  I'm  farther  oS  from  Heaven 

Than  when  I  was  a  boy. 

Thomas  Bood  (171)9-1845) 

Often  I  think  of  the  beautiful  town 

That  is  seated  by  the  sea; 
Often  in  thought  go  up  and  down 
The  pleasant  streets  of  that  dear  old  town, 
And  my  youth  comes  back  to  me. 
And  a  verse  of  a  Lapland  song 
Is  haunting  my  memory  still: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth,  are  Jong,  long  thoughts." 

I  can  see  the  shadowy  lines  of  its  trees. 

And  catch,  in  sudden  ^cams, 
The  sheen  of  the  far-surrounding  seas. 
And  islands  that  were  the  Hesperides 
Of  all  my  boyish  dreams. 

And  the  burden  of  that  old  song, 
it  murmurs  and  whispers  still: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  arc  long,  Icng  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  black  wharves  and  the  slips, 

And  the  sea-tides  tossing  free; 
And  Spanish  sailors  with  bearded  lips, 
And  the  beauty  and  mystery  of  the  ships. 
And  the  magic  of  the  sea. 
And  the  voice  of  that  wayward  song 
Is  singing  and  saying  still: 
"A  bay's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  bulwarks  by  the  ^re, 

And  the  fort  upon  the  hill ; 
The  sunrise  gun,  with  its  hollow  roar. 
The  drum-beat  repeated  o'er  aud  o'er, 


My  Lost  Youth  4^ 

And  the  bugle  wild  and  shriU. 
And  the  music  of  that  old  song 
Throbs  in  my  memory  stiB: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts.  *" 

I  remember  the  sea-tight  far  away, 
How  it  thundered  o'et  the  tide! 
And  the  d«ad  captains,  as  they  lay 
In  their  graves,  o'erlooking  the  tranquil  bay 
Where  they  in  battle  died. 

And  the  sound  of  that  mouniful  song 
Goes  through  mi  with  a  thrill; 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  can  see  the  breezy  dome  of  groves. 

The  shadows  of  Deering's  Woods; 
And  the  friendships  old  and  the  early  loves 
Come  back  with  a  Sabbath  sound,  as  of  doves 

In  quiet  neighborhoods. 
And  the  verse  of  that  sweet  old  song, 

;,  long  thoughts." 
:hat  dart 

"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

There  are  things  of  which  I  may  not  apeak; 

There  are  dreams  that  cannot  die; 
There  are  thoughts  that  make  the  strong  heart  weak, 
And  biins;  a  pallor  into  the  cheek, 


4+6  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

And  a  mist  before  the  eye. 
And  the  words  of  that  fatal  son^ 
Come  over  me  like  a  chill: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
Atid  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts  " 

Sirange  to  me  are  the  forms  I  meet 

When  I  visit  the  dear  old  town; 
But  the  native  air  is  pure  and  sweet, 
And  the  trees  that  o'ershadow  each  well-known  street. 
As  they  balance  up  and  down. 
Are  singing  the  beautiful  song, 
Are  sighing  and  whispering  still: 
"Aboy's  Willis  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

And  Deering's  Woods  are  fresh  and  fair, 

And  with  joy  that  is  almost  pain 
My  heart  goes  back  to  wander  there. 
And  among  the  dreams  of  the  days  that  were 
I  find  my  lost  youth  again. 
And  the  strange  and  beautiful  song, 
The  groves  are  rq)eating  it  still: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thot«hts." 
Henry  Wodsworlh  Longfellmn  Ii8o7-i88aJ 

Voice  of  the  western  wind  I 

Thou  singest  from  afar. 
Rich  with  the  music  of  a  land 

Where  all  my  memfflies  are; 
But  in  thy  song  I  only  hear 

The  echo  of  a  tone 
That  fell  divinely  on  my  ear 

In  days  forever  flown. 

Star  of  the  western  sky! 

Thou  beamcst  from  afar. 
With  lustre  caught  from  eyes  I  knew 

Whose  orbs  were  each  a  star; 


The  Shoogy-Shoo  447 

But,  oil,  those  orbs— too  wildly  bright — 

No  more  eclipse  thine  own, 
And  never  shall  I  find  the  light 

Of  days  forever  flown ! 

Edmund  Clarence  Stcdman  [iSjj-igog] 

LangsynE]  when  hfe  was  bonnie. 

An'  a'  the  skies  were  blue. 
When  ilka  thocht  took  blossom. 

An'  hung  its  heid  wi'  dew, 
When  winter  wasna  winter, 

Though  snaws  cam'  happin'  doon, 
Langsyne,  when  life  was  bonnie, 

Spring  gaed  a  twalmonth  roun'. 

Langsyne,  when  life  was  bonnie. 

An'  a'  the  days  were  lang; 
When  through  them  ran  the  muse 

That  comes  to  us  in  sang, 
We  never  wearied  liltin' 

The  auld  love-laden  tune; 
Langsyne,  when  life  was  bonnie, 

Love  gaed  a.  twalmonth  loua'. 

Langsyne,  when  life  was  bonnie. 

An'  a'  the  warid  was  fair, 
ITie  leaves  were  green  wi'  simmer, 

For  autumn  wasna  there. 
But  listen  hoo  they  rustle, 

Wi'  an  eerie,  weary  soun'. 
For  noo,  alas,  'tis  winter 

That  gangs  a  twalmonth  roun'. 

Alexander  Anderson  [itUs-igogl 

I  DO  be  thinking,  lassie,  of  the  old  days  now; 
For  oh!  your  hair  b  tangled  gold  above  your  Irish  brow; 
And  oh!  your  eyes  are  fairy  flail  no  other  eyes  so  blue; 
Come  nestle  in  my  arms,  and  swing  upon  the  shoogy-shoo. 

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44^  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Sweet  and  slow,  swinging  low,  eyes  of  Irish  bine, 
All  my  heart  is  swinging,  dear,  swinging  here  with  you ; 
Irish  eyes  are  like  the  flax,  and  mine  arc  wet  with  dew, 
Thinking  of  the  old  days  upon  the  shoogy-shoo. 
When  meadow-larks  would  singing  be  in  old  Glentair, 
Was  one  sweet  lass  bad  eyes  of  blue  and  tanked  golden  ^r; 
She  was  a  wee  bit  girlcen  then,  dear  heart,  the  like  of  you. 
When  we  two  swung  the  braes  among,  upon  the  shoogy- 

Ah  well,  the  world  goes  up  and  down,  and  some  sweet  day 

Its  shoogy-shoo  will  swing  us  two  whore  sighs  will  pass  away ; 

So  nestle  close  your  bonnic  head,  and  close  your  eyes  so 

And  swing  with  me,  and  memory,  upon  the  shoogy-shoo. 
Sweet  and  slow,  swinging  low,  eyes  of  Irish  blue, 
All  my  heart  is  swinging,  dear,  swinging  here  with  you) 
Irish  eyes  axe  like  the  Aas,  and  mine  are  wet  with  dew, 
Thinking  of  the  old  days  upon  the  shoogy-shoo. 
Winthrop  Packard  [1861- 


I'll  going  softly  all  my  years  in  wisdom  if  in  paia — 
For,  oh,  the  music  stirs  my  blood  as  once  it  did  before, 

And  stili  I  heai  in  Babylon,  in  Babylon,  in  Babylon, 
The  dancing  feet  in  Babylon,  of  those  who  tiook  my  Door. 

I'm  going  silent  all  my  years,  but  garnered  in  my  brain 
Is  that  swift  wit  which  used  to  flash  and  cut  them  like  a 

And  now  I  hear  in  Babylon,  in  Babylon,  in  Babylon, 
The  foolish  tongues  in  Babylon,  of  those  who  took  my 

I'm  going  lonely  all  my  days,  who  was  the  first  to  crave 
The  second,  fierce,  unsteady  voice,  that  strug^ed  to  spealc 

And  now  I  watch  in  Babylon,  in  Babylon,  in  Babyton, 
The  pallid  loves  in  Babylon  of  men  who  once  loved  me. 


The  Triumph  of  Forgotten  Things     4431 , 

I'm  sleeping  aariy  by  sl  flame  ae  one  conleot  and  gray, 
But,  oh,  I  dream  a  dream  of  dreams  beneath  i  winter 

I  '  j'lon, 

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450 :         Poems  of  Youth  and  Age  .       -1 

Tbeie  is  a  patience,  too,  io  tb!bgs  Nti^t; 

They  wail— Lhey  find  the  portal  long'uilusCd;. 

And  knocking  there,  it  shall  refuse  them  not/— 
Nor  aught  shall  be  rehisedl 

Ah,  yes!  though  we,  unheeding  years  on  years, 

In  alien  pledges  spend  the  twart's  estate, 
They  bide  some  blessed  moment  of  qydck  tcar^—    i 
Some  moment  without  date — 

Some  gleam  on  flower,  or  leaf,  or  beaded  dew, 
Some  tremble  at  the  ear  of  memoried  sound 
T)f  mother-song, — tliey  seize  the  slender  dew, — 
The  old  loves  gather  round! 

When  that  which  lured  us  once  now  lureth  not, 
'  But  the  tired  hands  their  garnered  dross  let  fall, 

This  is  the  triumph  of  the  things  forgot — 
To  hear  the  tired  heart  call! 

And  they  are  with  us  at  Life's  farthest  reachj 

A  l^ht  when  into  shadow  all  else  dips; 
As,  in  the  stranger's  land,  thai  native  speech 
Returns  to  dying  lips!  ' 

EdUk  U.  Tkmat  [1S54- 


Me(7  say  the  sjjUen  instrument, 
That,  from  the  Master's  bow, 
With  pangs  of  joy  or  woe, 
Feeb  music's  soul  through  every  fibre  sent, 
Whispers  the  ravished  strings  ' 

More  than  he  knew  or  meant; 
Old  summers  in  its  memory  ^ow; 
The  secrets  of  the  wind  it  sings; 
It  hears  the  April-loosened  firings; 
And  mixes  with  its  mood 
AUitdroaoiedwhai:  it  stood  1 

Ib  the  munauTDUB  pine-wood 

p:hy  Google 

In  the  Twilight 

The  magical  moonligbt  tfken 

Steeped  eveiy  bough  and  CtHie; 
The  roar  of  the  brook  in  the  glen 

Came  dim  from  the  distajice  blown; 

TTie  wind  through  its  glooms  sang  low. 

And  it  swayed  to  and  fro, 

With  delight  as  it  stood. 

In  the  wonderful  wood, 

Long  ago! 

O  my  hfe,  have  we  not  bad  seas(»is 
Tliat  only  said.  Live  and  rejoice? 
That  asked  not  for  causes  and  reasons, 

But  made  us  all  feeling  and  voice? 
When  we  went  with  the  winds  in  their  blowing, 

When  Nation  and  we  were  peers, 
And  we  seemed  to  share  in  the  flowing 
Of  the  inexhaustible  years? 
Have  we  not  from  the  earth  drawn  juices 
Too  fine  tor  earth's  sordid  uses? 
Have  I  heard,  have  I  seen 

All  I  feel,  aU  I  know? 
Doth  my  heart  overween? 
Or  could  it  have  bees 
Long  ago? 

Sometimes  a  breath  floats  by  me, 
An  odor  from  Dreamland  sent. 
That  makes  the  ghost  seem  nigh  me 
Of  a  splendor  that  came  and  went. 
Of  a  life  lived  somewhere,  I  know  not 

In  what  diviner  sphere, 
Of  memories  that  stay  not  and  go  not, 
Like  music  heard  once  by  an  ear 
That  cannot  forget  or  recJaiiB  it, 
A  somcthiug  so  shy,  it  would  shame  it 
To.  make  it  a  show, 
A  something  too  vague,  could  I  name  it, 
For  otliet3  to  know, 

p:hy  Google 

Poerns  of  Ywith  and  Age 

As  if  I  had  Uved  it  o 
As  i(  I  had  acted  or  schemed  it, 
Long  ago! 

And  yet,  could  I  live  it  over. 

This  hfe  that  stirs  in  my  biain, 
Could  I  be  both  maiden  and  lover, 
Moon  and  tide,  bee  and  clover, 

As  I  seem  to  have  been,  once  again. 
Could  1  but  speak  it  and  show  it. 
This  pleasure  more  sharp  than  pain. 
That  baffles  and  lures  me  so, 
The  world  should  once  more  have  a  poet, 
Such  as  it  had 
In  the  ages  glad, 

Long  ago! 

James  RussOl  LowtU  ti8i5ri«9«I 


Sing  we  for  love  and  idleness, 
Naught  else  is  worth  the  having. 
Though  I  have  been  in  many  a  Iwid, 
There  b  naught  else  in  living. 

And  I  would  rather  Have  my  sweet. 
Though  rose-leaves  die  of  grieving, 
Than  do  high  deeds  in  Hungary 
To  pass  all  men's  believing. 

Ezra  Pound  [iSSj- 


"  A  CUP  lor  hopel "  rfiq  said,  i 

In  springtime  ere  the  blocan  was  old;  ■ 
The  crimson  wine  was  poor  and  cold     ' 

By  her  month's  ricfaec  red. 

"A  cup  for  love!"  how  low, 
How  soft  the  words;  and  all  the  while 
Her  blush  was  rippling  with  a  smile 

Like  summer  after  snow. 

p:hy  Google 

The  Old  Familiar  FacM  453 

"A  cup  for  memory!" 
Cold  cup  that  one  must  drain  alone: 
While  autumn  windB  are  up  aod  moan 

Across  tbe  bairen  sea. 

Hope,  memory,  love: 
Hope  for  fair  mom,  and  love  for  day, 
And  memory  for  the  evening  gray 

Aod  solitary  do^. 

CkrUtiHa  Ctorti»a  RatuUi  (i83»-iSg4) 

I  have  been  laughing,  I  have  been  carousing, 
Drinking  late,  sitting  late,  with  my  bosom  cronies, — 
All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  faces. 

I  loved  a  Love  once,  fairest  among  women; 
Closed  are  her  doors  on  me,  I  must  not  see  her, — 
All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  faces. 

I  have  a  friend,  a  kinder  friend  has  no  man: 
Like  an  ingrate,  I  left  my  friend  abruptly; 
Left  him,  to  muse  on  the  old  famifiar  faces. 

Ghost-like,  I  paced  round  the  haunts  of  my  childhood. 

Earth  seemed  a  desert  I  was  hound  to  traverse, 
Seekng  to  find  tlw  old  familiar  faces. 

Friend  of  my -bosom,  thou  more  than  a  brother, 
Why  wert  not  thou  horn  in  my  father's  dwelUng? 
So  might  we  talk  of  the  old  familiar  faces — 

How  some  they  have  died,  and  some  they,  have  3eft  me. 
And  some  are'  taken  from  me;  alt  are  departed, -t- 
All,  ail  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  faces.  > 

Ckarlea  Lattb  l>iv.f  S-1834] 


454  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

. '  Oft  id  the  stilly  luf^t, 

Ere  Slumber's  diaiD  hath  b«in<l  me, 

Fond  memory  brings  the  light 
Of  other  days  around  me: 
The  smites,  the  tears, 
Of  boyhood's  years, 
The  words  of  icrve  then  spofeen; 
The  eyes  that  shore, 
Now  dimmed  and  gone. 
The  cheerful  hearts  now  broken! 
Thus  in  the  stilly  night. 

Ere  Slumber's  chain  hath  bound  me. 
Sad  Memory  brings  tlie  light 
Of  other  days  around  me. 

When  I  remember  all 

The  friends,  so  linked  together, 
I've  seen  around  me  fall, 
Like  leaves  in  wintry  weather, 
I  ieel  like  one 
Who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet-ball  deserted. 
Whose  lights  are  fled. 
Whose  garlands  dead, 
And  all  but  he  departed! 
"Hius  in  the  stilly  night. 

Ere  Slumber's  chain  hath  bound  me, 
Sad  Memory  brings  the  light 

Of  other  days  aroimd  me.  i 

Tkotmai  Mopre  lijtrv-iSsil 


Tears,  idle  tears,  I  know  not  what  they  mean, 
T«ar&  from  the  depth  of  some  divins  despair 
Rifie  in  the  heart  and  gather  to  the  eyes^ 
In  looking  on  the  happy  Autwnnrfieids, 
.    And  thinking  of  the  days  that  are  no  more. 


The  Pet  Name  45.5 

Fresh  as  the  first  beam  gUttering  on  a  sail, 
That  brings  onr  friends  up  from  the  tmderworld. 
Sad  as  the  last  which  Te<ld«nE  over  one 
That  sinks  with  all  we  lore  below  the  verge; 
So  sad,  so  fresh,  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

Though  I  write  hooks,  It  wffi  bo  itoA 

Upon  the  leavee  of  nMie, 
And  afterward',  when  I  am  dead, 
Wift  ne  *«  be  graved  for  dght  oi  trwtd. 

Across  my  foner^^tone.   '      .' 


.456  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Thb  name,  whoever  chance  to  call,  . 

Perhaps  your  smile  ma-y  win: 
Nay,  do  not  smile!  mine  eydids  fall 
Over  mine  eyes  and  (eel  withal 

The  sudden  tears  within. 

Is  there  a  leaf,  that  greenly  fpvws 
Where  summer  meadows  bloom. 
But  gathcreth  the  winter  snows. 
And  changcth  to  the  hue  of  those, 
I(  lasting  till  they  comeP 

Is  there  a  word,  or  jest,  or  game. 

But  time  incrusteth  round 
With  sod  associate  thoughts  the  gamer 
And  so  to  me  my  very  name 

Assumes  a  mournful  sound. 

My  brother  gave  that  name  to  me 
When  we  were  children  twain. 

When  names  acquired  bf^tismally 

Were  hard  to  utter,  as  to  see 
That  life  bad  any  pain. 

No  shade  was  on  us  then,  save  one 

Of  chestnuts  from  the  hill; 
And  through  the  word  oar  Jaugh  did  run 
As  part  thereof;  the  mirth  being  done, 

He  calb  me  by  it  still. 

Nay,  do  not  smile!    I  hear  in  it 
What  none  of  you  can  hear, — 
The  talk  upon  the  willow  seat. 
The  bird  and  wind  that  did  repeat 
Around,  our  human  cheer. 

I  hear  the  birthday 's  oiHsy  foliss 

My  sisters'  woodland  glee. 
My  lather's  praise  I  did  itot  miss 
When  stooping  down,  he  cared  to  luss 

The  poeL  at  bis  knee, — 


Threescore  and  Ten  ^^j 

And  voices  which,  to  name  mc,  aye 
Their  tenderest  tones  were  keeping,— - 

To  some  I  nevermore  can  say 

An  answer  till  God  wipes  awsy 
In  heaven  these  drops  of  weeping. 

My  name  to  me  a  sadness  wears: 

No  munnura  cross  my  mind — 
Now  God  be  thanked  for  these  thick  tears, 
Which  ^ow,  o(  those  departed  years, 

Sweet  memories  left  behind. 

'  Now  God  be  thanked  for  years  enwron^'t 

With  love  which  softens  yet: 
Now  God  be  thanked  for  every  thought  - 
Which  is  so  tender  it  has  caught 

Earth 's  guerdon  of  regret. 

Earth  saddens,  never  shall  remove 
AfTecLioQs  purely  given;  , 

And  e'en  that  mortal  grief  shall  prove 

The  immortality  of  love. 

And  heighten  it  with  Heaven. 

Elisitbelh  Barrett  Brornning  |iSo&-iS6i) 


Who  reach  their  threescore  years  and  ten, 

As  I  have  mine,  \i-iChout  a  sigh, 
Are  either  more  or  less  than  men*— 

Not  such  am  I.  , 

I  am  not  o£  them;  life  to  me 

Has  been  a  strange,  bewildering  dream, 
Wherein  I  knew  not  things  that  be 
Fiom  thin^  that  seem. 

I  thought,  I  hoped,  I  knew  one  thing, 

And  had  one  gift,  when  1  was  young — 
The  impulse  and  the  power  to  sing, 
And  so  I  sung. 


458  Poems  of  Youth  and  \  Age 

To  have  a  place  in  the  high  choir    . 

Of  poets,  and  deserve  the  sbidb—     ; 
What  more  could  mortal  maa  dcsii^ 
Than  poet 's  fame? 

I  sought  it  long,  but  never  found; 

The  choir  so  full  was  and  so  strong    ' 
The  jubilant  voices  there,  they  dravn^ 
My  simple  song. 

Men  would  not  hear  me  then,  and  now  ' 

I  care  not,  I  accept  my  (ate, 
When  white  hairs  thatdi  the  furrowed  brow 
Crowns  come  too  late! 

The  best  of  life  went  Ibng  ago 

From  me;  it  was  not  much  at  best; 
Only  the  love  that  young  hearts  know, 
The  dear  unrest. 

Back  on  my  past,  through  gathering  tears, 

Once  more  I  cast  my  eyes,  and  see 
Bright  shapes  that  in  my  better  years     ' 
Surrounded  me! 

They  left  me  here,  they  left  me  there. 

Went  down  dark  pathways,  one  by  one— 
The  wise,  the  great,  the  young,  the  fair; 
But  I  went  on. 

And  I  go  on!    And  bad  or  good. 

The  old  allotted  years  of  men 

I  have  endured  as  best  I  could. 

Threescore  and  ten! 

Richard  Henry  Sloddard  [1815-1903] 


When  the  humi<j  diadows  hover 
Over  alt  the  starry  sf^ces, 

And  the  cwlancboly  darkness 
Gently  weeps  in  irainy  taan, 

p:hy  Google 

Rwn  on  tht  Roof 

What  i  blisa  ba  press  the  jmUow 

Of  a  cotlage-diatnbei  bed. 
And. to  Ibteo  bo  the  patter 

CH  lite  sofi  raio  oveiheadi 

Every  tinkle  on  the  sMngka 

Has  an  echo  in  the  heart; 
And  a  thousand  dreamy  fandqs 

Into  busy  being  start, 
And  a  thousand  recollections 

Weave  their  air-threads  into  woof. 
As  I  listen  to  the  patter 

Of  the  lain  upon  the  rooL 

Now  in  roemory  comes  my  mother, 

As  she  used,  in  years  agone. 
To  regard  the  darling  dreamers 

Ere  she  left  them  till  the  dawn; 
And  I  feel  her  fond  look  on  me. 

As  I  hst  to  this  refrain 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles 

By  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

Then  my  h'ttle  swajA  aster, 

With  her  wings  and  waving  hair, 
And  her  star-eyed  dWrub  biothef™ 

A  serene  angehc  pair— ^ 
Glide  around  my  wakeful  pillow, 

With  their  praise  or  mild  (eprodf. 
As  I  listen  to  the  murmur 

Of  the  soft  rain  on  ttie  roof. 

And  another  comes,  to  thrill  roe         ' 

With  her  eyes'  delicious  blue; 
And  I  mind  not,  musing  on  her,       i 

That  her  heart  was  all  untrue: 
I  remember  but  to  love  her 

With  a  passion  kin  to  pain,         , 
And  my  heart's  qukk  pulses  vibratp  . 

To  the  patter  of  the  rain. 


^fioi.  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Art  hath  naught  of  tone  or  cadence  ■' 

That  can  work  with  such  a  spell' 
In  the  soul's  mysteriouB  fountains,   ' 

Whence  the  tears  of  rapture  well, 
As  that  melody  of  nature, 

That  subdued,  subduing  strain 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles 

By  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

CoalK  Kiitmey  [1816-1904] 


Hebe,  in  my  snug  little  firc-Iit  chainber. 

Sit  I  alone: 
And,  as  I  gaze  in  the  coals,  I  reraember 

Days  long  agone. 
Saddening  it  is  when  the  night  has  descended, 

TTius  to  sit  here. 
Pensively  musing  on  episodes  ended 

Many  a  year. 

Still  in  my  visions  a  golden-haiied  glory 

tlits  to  and  fro; 
She  whom  1  loved— but  'tis  just  the  old  story: 

Dead,  long  ago. 
'Tis  but  a  wraith  of  love;  yet  I  linger 

(Thus  passion  errs), 
Foolishly  kissing  the  ring  on  my  &Bger — 

Once  it  was  hers. 

Nothing  has  changed  ance  her  spiril  <lei»4rted, 

Here,  in  this  room 
Save  I,  whd,  weary,  artd  half  broken-hearted. 

Sit  in  the  ^oom. 
Loud  'gainst  the  window  the  winter  rain  dashes 

Dreary  and  cold; 
Over  the  floor  the  red  fire-light  tkshos 

Just  as  of  tM. 


The  Old  Man  Dreams  461 

Just  as  of  old — but  the  embers  are  scattered, 

Whose  ruddy  blaze 
Flashed  o'er  the  floor  where  the  fairy  Ieelrpatt«red 

In  other  days! 
Hien,  her  dear  voice,  hke  a  silver  chime  rin^png, 

Often  xjioed  her  singing. 

Why  jght  but  sorrow,  I  wonder? 

Time  lalei,  must  sunder 

Years  have  rolled  by;  I  am  wiser  uid  eider — 

Wiser,  but  yet 
Not  tin  my  heart  and  its  feelings  grow  colder. 

Can  I  foiget. 

So,  in  my  snug  little  fire-Jit  chamber, 

Sit  I  alone; 
And,  as  I  ga^e  in  the  oxiIg,  I  remember 

Days  long  agonc! 

GMTge  Armnid  [1SJ4-1S65I 


Oe  for  one  hour  of  youthful  joyl 
Give  back  my  twentieth  spring! 

I'd  rather  laugh,  a  bright -ha  ire<l  boy. 
Than  reign,  a  gray-beard  king. 

Off  with  the  spoils  of  wrinkled  age! 

Away  with  Learning's  crown! 
Tear  out  life's  Wisdom -writ  ten  page. 

And  dash  its  trophies  down! 

One  moment  let  my  life-blood  stream 
From  boyhood's  fount  of  flame! 

Give  me  one  giddy,  reeling  dream 
Of  life  all  Iqve  and  fame! 


'  462  Poertis  of  Youth  and  Age 

My  listening  angel  heard  'the  prayer, '  ■  ' 
And,  calmly  smiling,  said, 
■     "If  I  but  touch  thy  silvered  half, 
Thy  hasty  wi^  hath  sped.  ■■ ' 

"But  is  there  nothing  io  thy  track 
.  To  bid  thee  fondly  stay,  ■   ' 

While  the  swift  seasons  hurry  bade  ' 
To  find  the  wished-for  day?" 

"Ah,  truest  soul  of  womankind!,' ■  I 
Without  thee  what  were  li(e? 

One  bliss  I  cannot  leave  bdwnd:  -  '  i 
rUtake — my— precious— Wifef 

The  angel  took  a  sapphire  pen 

And  wrote  in  rainbow  dew,     f    ..    ■ 
The  man  would  be  a  boy  again. 
And  be  a  kusband,  loot 

"And  'i&  there  nothing  yet  noaiud,  1 
Before  the  changd  appears?       ■  ■ ' 
I       •        Remember,  all  their  gifts  have  fled 
With  those  dissolving  years." 

"Why,  yes;"  foi- memdVywouAd recall 

My  fond  paternal  jpys;  .. , 

"I  could  not  bear  to  leave  tbein  all — 

ni  take—my— girl— and— boys,"  , 

The  smiling  angel  dropped  hb  pen,- 
■"  Why,  this  will  never  do;   1 

The  man  would  be  a  boy  again. 
And  be  a  father,  tool". 

And  so  I  laughed,~my  laughter  woke 

The  household  with  its  noise,- 
And  wrote  my  dream,  when  morning  broke. 

To  please  the  gray-haired  boys. 

mvefWendta  Selihts  iiSo9-i&9t] 





With  pensive  eyes  the  litUe  rpom  I  view, 

Where,  in  my  youth,  I  weathered  it  so  lonq;  \ 
With  a  wild  mistress,  f-  stanch  friend  or  t,no. 

And  alight  beart  still  breaking  into  spng: 
Making  a  mock  of  life,  and  all  its  cares. 

Rich  in  the  glory  of  my  rising  sup. 
Lightly  I  vaulted  up  four  pair  of  stairs, 

In  the  brave  days  nfaeo  I  was  twoBtyinife. 

Yes;  'tis,  a  garret— lot.him  know't  who  will— 

There  was  my  bed~-fuU  bftrd  it  was  aAd  small; 
My  table  there — and  I  decipher  still 

Half  a  lame  couplet  charcoaled  on'  the  wall. 
Ye  joys,  that  Time  hath  swept  with  him  away. 

Come  to  mine  eyes,  ye  dreams  of  We  and  fun; 
For  you  I  pawned  my  wdtch  how  many  a  day, 

In  the  brave  ^ys  when  I  was  twenty-KioC' 

And  sAe  my  little  Jessy,  first  of  all; 

She  comes  with  pouting  lips  and  sparkling  eyes: 
Behold,  how  roguishly  she  pins  her  shawl 

Across  the  narrow  casement,  curtain-wise; 
Now  by  the  bed  her  petticoat  glides  down. 

And  when  did  woman  look  the  worse  in  hone? 
I  have  heard  since  who  paid  for  many  a  gown. 

In  the  biave  days  when  I  was  twcnty-o^e. 

One  Jolly  eveolug,  when  my  friends  and  1 

Made  happy  music  with  our  songs  and  cheers, 
A  shout  of  triumph  mounted  up  thus  high, 

And  distant  cannon  opened  on  our  ears: 
We  rise,^we  join  in  the  triumphant  strain, — 

Napoleon  conquers— Austertitz  is  won— 
Tyrants  shall  never  tread  us  down  ag^', 

In  the  brave  days  when  I  was  twenty-one. 
*  For  the  original  o(  this  poem  see  page  3830- 

p:hy  Google 

;  4$4  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 

Let  U8  begone — the  place  b  sad  and  strange — 

How  far,  far  o£f,  these  happy  times  appear; 
All  thai  I  have  to  live  I'd  gladly  change 

For  one  such  month  as  I  have  wasted  here — 
To  draw  long  dreams  of  beauty,  love,  and  power, 

From  founts  of  hope  that  never  will  outrun, 
And  drink  all  life's  quintessence  in  an  hour, 

Give  me  the  days  when  I  was  twenty-One! 

Wiiliam  Makepeace  Thackeray  ligii-ig63l 


-ShodU)  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  brought  to  min'? 
Sbonld  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot. 
And  days  o' lang  syne? 

For  auld  lang  syne,  my  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne,  ^ 

We'll  tak  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet 
For  auld  lang  syne. 

-  We  twa  hae  rin  about  the  braes. 
And  pu'd  the  gowans  fine; 
But  we've  wandered  moniea  weary  fit 
Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

Wc  twa  bae  paidl't  i'  the  bum, 

Frae  momin'  sun  till  dine; 
fiut  sens  between  us  braid  hae  roared 

Sin'  {luld  lang  syne. 

And  here's  a  hand,  my  trusty  fiere. 

And  gie's  a  hand  o'  thine; 
And  we'll  tak  a  right  guid  willl^wau^t 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

And  surely  ye'll  be  your  pint-stowp, 

And  surely  I'll  be  mine, 
And  we'll  tak  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet 

For  auld  lang  synel 

Rabert  Bumi  \ns9-^l9ti 


Rock  Me  To  Slt^  ,465 



No  other  trorsliip  abides  and  endores, — 
Faithful,  iiHMlfish,  and  patient,  like  jiQUrs: 
None  £ke  a  mother  can  f^rm  away  pain 
From  the  sick  soul  and  the  world-weary  brain. 
Slumber's  aoft  cahns  o'er  my  heavy  Uds  creep;— 
Rock  me  to  aleep,  mother, — rock  me  to^eepl 

Come,  let  your.browiL  hair,  just  lifted  with  gold, 
Fall  on  your  shoukleiB  again  as.trf  old; 


'4^  Pdems  of 'YouA  and 'Age 

Let  it  drop  over  my  forehead  to-night, 
Shading  niy  faint  eyes  aWay  fronilthe  light; 

.  For  with  its  sunny-edged  shadows  once  ^ore 
'    "tiaply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  bf  yor^;"  _ 
Lovingly,  softly,  its  bright  bUlowa  swetp;—  ;'; 
Kock  me  to  sleiep,  mother, — rock  me  to  steepT 

Mother,  dear  mother,  the  years  have'fceen  bihg 
Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  songi 
Sing,  theii,  and  unto  my  soul  it  shall  seem' 
Womanhood's  years  have  beeil  only'i  dreai&/ 

THE  BUCKET'     ■     ':  .       .'/ 
How  dear  to  this  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  cfiUdHood, 


That  moss-covered  voasel  I  hailed  as  a  treasWT,    ■ 

For  often  at  noon,  when  retuf;ne4  frppfi  li)a  fipld^ 
I  found  it'the  source  of  aft  eiquisite; pleasure, |      \ 

The  puristand  sweetest  Uwtnatuw  i;aayi?li  ■ 
Howaedent  I.seiaed  it,  with  hands  th^t  werf  glfl^ns- 

And  quick  to  the.white-pebblBd.^ttorwitifeUi- 
Theaaoon,  with  the «mWqin  of . tryth  overflo^pft 

And  dripping  with  coolness,  it  rose  from  the  well— 
T^ftM  oaken  bdcket^  the  iKMi-bdirad  bucket,     1 
The  moss-co%lered  bucket  arose  4nm  ihe  well'      1 


The  Grape-Vine  Swing  467 

How  sweet  from  the  green  mossy  brim  to  receive  it. 
As  poised  on  the  curb  it  iffdined  to  my  lips! 


While  a  maiden  sits  in  thy  drooping  fold. 
And  swings  and  sings  in  tht  noonday  shade! 

0  giant  strange  of  our  Southern  woods! 

I  dream  of  thee  bHII  in  the  w^Il-tnown  4p<«,    '  ■    ' ' 
Though  our  vessel  strains  o'er  the  ocean  flood^i 
And  the  Northern  fdrest  beholds  thee  not j  "'■  ■■   ' 

1  think  of  thee  still  itith  a  sweet  regret,         ■    .    .    "> 
As  (he  cordage  yields  Co  my  playful  grasp,-^     ■'■  ■' 

Dost  thou  spring  and  cling  in  our  woodlands  yet? 
Does  the  maiden  stiB  swing  in  thy  giant  clasp? 

'  WaHaitt  Gilmdrt  Simths- liSo6-^i8ioi 


4^9  Po^ms  of  Youth  wnd  Age 


OhI  the  old  swim  m  in '-hole!  whare  the  crick  so  stilt  and  deep 
Looked  like  a  baby-river  that  was  laying  half  asleep, 
And  the  gurgle  of  the  wortcr  round  the  drift  jist  below 
Sounded  like  the  laugh  of  something  we  onc't  ust  to  know 
Before  we  could  remember  anything  but  the  eyes 
Of  the  angels  lookin'  out  as  we  left  Paradise; 
But  the  merry  days  of  youth  is  beyond  our  controle; 
And  it's  hard  to  part  ferever  with  the  old  swimmin'-hole. 

Oh!  theoldswimmitk'-hole!    In  the  happy  days  of  yore. 

When  I  ust  to  lean  above  it  on  the  oW  sickamorc, 

Oh!  it  showed  me  a  face  in  its  wann  sunny  tide 

That  gazed  back  at  me  so  gay  and  glorified, 

It  made  me  love  myself  as  I  leaped  to  caress 

My  shadder  smilin'  up  at  me  with  sich  tenderness. 

But  them  days  is  past  and  gone,  and  old  Time's  tuck  his  toll 

From  the  old  man  come  back  to  the  old  swimmin'-hole. 

Oh!  the  old  swimmin'-hole!  In  the  long,  tezy  days 
When  the  hum-drum  of  school  made  so  many  nin-i-ways. 
How  pleas;  lown  the  old  dusty  lane, 

Whare  the  et  was  all  printed  sp  plane 

You  could  e  heel  and  ihe  sole 

They  was  I  :  the  old  swimmin'-hole. 

But  the  lo!  ^our  tears  in  sorrow  roll 

Like  the  ra  up  the  old  swimmin'-hole. 

Thare  the  bulrushes  growcd,  and  the  cattails  so  tall, 

And  the  sunshine  and  shadder  Tell  over  it  all ; 

And  it  mollled  the  worter  with  amber  and  gold 

Tel  the  glad  lilies  rocked  in  the  rjpplcs  that  rolled; 

And  the  saakc-fecder's  tour  gauzy  wings  fluttered  by 

Like  the  ghost  of  a  daisy  dropped  out  of  the  sky, 

Or  a  wownded  apple-blossom  ia  the  breeze's  controle 

As  it  cut  acrost  some  orchurd  lo'rds  the  old  swim  nun '-bole. 

Oh!  the  old  swimmin'-hole!    When  I  last  saw  the  place, 
The  scenes  wai  all  changed,  like  (he  change  in  my  face; 


'      Forty  Years  Ago     '  4.69 

The  bridge  of  the  railroad  now  crosses  Ihe  spot 

Whare  the  old  divin'log  lays  sunk  and  fergot. 

And  T'dtray  down  the  banks  whare  the  trees  list  to  be^' 

But  never  again  will  theyr  shade  shelter  me! 

And  I  wish  in  my  sorrow  I  could  strip  to  the  soul, 

Add  dive  off  in  my  grave  lilce  the  old  swimmin'-hole. 

James  Wkltcomb  Riley  ti8s'~i5ifi| 

I've  wandered  to  the  village,  Tom,  I've  sat  beaeath  the  tree, 
Upon  the  schoolhouse  playground,  that'  sheltered  yoM  and 

ys  ex  play 
list  as'gajL 
oated  o'er 

The  o(d  schoolhouse  is  altered  some;  the  benches  are' re- 
placed i 

By  Dew  ones,  very  like  the  same  our  jackknivcs  once  defaced; 

But  the  same  old  brkks  are  in  the  wall,  the  boll  swings  to 
and  fro; 

Its  music's  just  tbe  same,  dear  Tom,  'twas  forty  yeare  ago. 

The  boys  were  playing  some  old  game,  beneath  that  same 

eld  tree;  ■  ' 

\  have  forgot  the  name  just  now— you've  played  the  same 

with  me. 
On  that  same  spot;  'twas  played  with  knives,  by  throwing 

The  loser  h^d  a  ta^  to  do,  there,  forty  years  ago. . 

The  river's  running  just  as  still;  the  willows  on  its  tadp 

Are  larger  than  they  were,  Tom;  the  stream  appears  less 


470  Poems  of  youth  opd  Age 

But  the  grape-vine  swing  is  nuDet]  now,  yrha^.  onoq  we 
played  the  beau,  ,       ,  ■ 

And  snyui^  our  sweethearts— pretty  girisv-just  forty  jjjeare 

The  spring  that  bubbled  'neath  the  hill,  close  by  the  ^^ad- 

ing  beech, 
Is  very  low — ^'twaa  then  so  high  that  we  could  scarcely 

And,  kneeling  down  to  get  a  drink,  deax  Tom,  I  Started  S9, 
To  see  how  sadly  I  am  changed  since  forty  yeBirs  agp. 

Ntar  by  that  spring,  upon  aa  elm,  you  know  I  cut  your  nsRH, 
Vour  sweetheart's  just  beneath  it,  Tom,  and  you  did  mine 

the  same; 
Some  heartless  wretch  has  peeled  the  bark,  'twas  dying  sure 

but  slow. 
Just  as  she  died,  whose  name  you  cut,  some  forty  years 


My  lids  have  long  been  dry,  Tom,  but  tears  came  to. my 

I  thought  of  her  1  loved  so  well,  those  early  broken  ties ; 
I  visited  the  old  churchyard,  and  took  some  flowers  to 

Upon  the  graves  of  tbos««  we  loved  some  forty,  yeariagoi 

Some  are  in  the  churchyard  laid,  some  gleet)  beneath  the  xa. 
And  none  are  left  of  our  old  class,  excepting  you  and  me; 
But  when  our  time  shall  come,  Tom,  aod  we  aoecaUcd  toga, 
I  hope  we'll  meet  with  those  we  loved  some  forty  yeftis  ago. 
Francis  Hiuton  (iS    -  , 


Don't  you  remember  sweet  Alice,  Ben  Bolt. — 

Sweet  Alice  whose  hair  was  so  brown. 
Who  wept  with  delight  when  you  gave  hei;  a  smile, 

And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown? 


In  the  old  churchyard  in  the  valley,  Ben  Bolt, 

In  a-qjfper  o^cur?  9^nA.  plone,  t      ■ 
They  have  fitted  a  slab  of  the  granite  so  gray, 

And  Alice  lies  under  the  stone. ' 

UnderChe  hlckoiytice,  Ben  Boh,      '     • 

Which  stood  U  the  food  of  Ihehfll, 
Tc^ther  we  'vc  lain  in  the  noonday  shade. 

And  listened  to  Applttdn  's  mfU.  '  ' 

The  ihiil-nbeel  haa  fslleh  to  pieces,  Ben  Bolt, 

The  rafters  have  tumbled  in,  ' 

And  a  quiet  nbidi  ciwbk'round  the  frails  as  you  ga^ 

Has  foUowed  the  olden  din. 

And  of  all  the  boys  who  were  schoolmates  then 
There  are  only  you  and  I. 

Iliere  is  change  in  the  things  I  loved,  Ben  Bolt, 

They  have  changed  from  the  old  to  the  new; 
But  I  feel  in  the  deeps  of  my  spirit  the  truth. 

There  never  was  change  in  you. 
Twelvemonths  twenty  have  passed,  Ben  Bolt, 

Since  first  we  were  friends — yet  I  hail 
Your  presence  a  blessing,  your  friendship  a  truth, 

Ben  Bolt  of  the  salt-sea  gale. 

Thomas  Dnnn  English  [iSiq-i^oiI 

p:hy  Google 

47*  Poems  of  Youth  and  Age 


Break,  break,  break, 

On  thy  cold  gny  stones,  O  Sea! 
And  I  would  that  my  tongue  cmdd  utber 

The  thougjits  that  ariae  in  me. 

O,  well  for  the  lisbennaB  's  boy, 

That  he  shouts  witli  his  aiatEr  at  pisyl 

O,  well  for  the  sailor  lad, 
That  he  nnga  in  his  boat  on  the  bayl 

And  the  stately  ^ips  go  on. 

To  their  haven  under  the  hill; 
'  But  O  for  the  touch  of  a  vani^ied  hand,' 
And  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  stilll         ' 

Break,  break,  break. 

At  the  loot  of  thy  crags,  O  Sea! 
But  the  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead 

Will  never  come  back  to  me. 

Alfred  Tennyson  [iSoo-iSga] 


PART  n 


'      EROS 

The  sense  of  the  world  is  short, — 
Long  and  various  the  report, — 

To  love  and  be  beloved; 
Men  and  gods  have  not  outleamed  it; 

And,  how  oft  soe'er  they've  turned  it, 
'Tis  not  to  be  improved. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  [iSo 


"  NOW  WHAT  IS  LOVE  " 

Now  what  is  Love,  I  pray  thee,  tell? 
It  is  that  fountain  and  that  well  , 

Where  pleasure  amd  repentance  dwell; 
It  is,  perfiapi,  the  saundng  bell 
That  tolls  all  into  heaven  or  bell; 
And  this  is  Love,  as  I  bear  tdi. 

Yet,  sbei^erd,  wb«t  is  hcsv&,  I  pray? 
It  is  a  yes,  it  is  a  nay, 
A  pretty  kind  of  4>ortiiig  bay. 
It  is  a  thing  will  soon  away. 
Then,  nymphs,  take  vaatage  irtiile  ye  may; 
And  tUt  is  Love,  as  I  hear  say. 

p:hy  Google 

476  Poems  of  Love 


From  ■■  Chrut's  Victoiy  " 

Love  is  the  blossom  where  there  blows 
Every  thing  that  lives  or  grows; 
Love  doth  make  the  Heavens  to  move, 
And  the  Sun  doih  burn  in  love : 
Love  the  strong  and  weak  doth  yoke, 
And  makes  the  ivy  climb  the  oak. 
Under  whose  shadows  lioni  wild, 
Softened  by  love,  grow  tame  and  mild; 
Love  no  medicine  can  appeese, 
He  burns  lishcs  in  the  seas; 
Npt  iUl  the  skill  his  wounds  can  stench, 
Not  all  the  sea  his  fire  can  quench. 
Love  did  make  the  bloody  spear 
Once  a  leavy  coat  to  wear, 
While  in  his  leaves  there  shrouded  lay 
Sweet  birds,  for  love  that  sing  and  play 
And  of  all  love 's  joyful  flame 
I  the  bud  and  blossom  am. 

Only  bend  (hy  knee  to  me. 

Thy  wooing  shall  thy  winning  be! 

See,  see  the  flowers  that  below 
Now  as  fresh  as  morning  blow; 
And  of  aU  the  virgin  rose 
That  as  bright  Aurora  sbows; 
How  they  all  unlcavM  die, 
Losing  their  virginity! 
Like  unto  a  summer  shade. 
But  now  bom,  and  now  they  £ada. 
Every  thing  doth  pass  away; 
There  is  danger  in  delay: 

Gather  it 

All  the  sa 
Into  roy  ' 
m  the  vi 
To  ray  h<  ,       , 


Rosalind's  Madrigal 

Every  grape  of  every  vine 
Is  gladly  bruised  to  make  me  wine: 
While  ten  thousand  kinp,  as  proud, 
To  cany  up  my  train  have  bowed, 
And  a  world  of  ladies  send  me 


Doth  suck  his  sweet: 
Now  with  his  wings  he  plays  with  me, 

Now  with  his  feet. 
Within  mine  eyes  he  makes  hb  nest. 
His  bed  amidst  my  tender  breast; 
My  kisses  are  his  daily  feast, 
And  yet  he  robs  me  of  my  rest: 

Abl  wuiton,  will  ye? 

And  if  I  sleep,  then  percheth  he 

With  pretty  fli^t, 
And  makes  his  piUow  of  my  knee 

The  livelong  night. 
Strike  I  my  lute,  he  tunes  the  string; 
He  muse  {days  if  so  I  sing; 
He  lends  me  every  lovely  thing, 
Yet  cruel  he  my  heart  doth  sting: 

WUst,  wanton,  stiU  ye! 

Else  I  with  roaes  every  day 

Will  whip  you  hence, 
And  bind  you,  when  you  long  to  play, 

For  your  <£ence. 


478  '  Poems'  of  Love 

1  'U  shut  mine  eyes  to  keep  yoa  in;    I 
I'll  make  you  fast  it  for  your  sin; 
I  'B  count  yotii  power  not  vorth  a  pin. 
— Alas  I  w*at  hereby  shall  I  win 
If  he  gainsay  meP 

What  if  I  beat  the  wanton  boy 

With  many  a  rod? 
He  will  repay  me  with  annoy, 

Because  a  god. 
Then  sit  thou  safely  on  my  knee; 
Then  let  thy  bower  my  bosom  be; 
Lurk  in  mine  eyes,  I  like  of  thee; 
O  Cupid,  so  thou:  pity  me, 

Spare  not,  but  play  thee! 

Thomat  Lodge  lissif-i6is\ 


From  "  Hymen's  Tliompb  " 

Love  is  a  sickness  full  of  woes, 

All  remedies  refusing; 
A  plant  that  with  most  cutting  grows. 
Most  barren  with  best  using. 
More  we  enjoy  it,  more  it  diss; 
If  not  enjoyed,  it  sighinK  cries — 
Heigh  bo! 

Love  is  a  torment  of  the  mind, 

A  tempest  evwlasting; 
And  Jove  hath  made  it  of  a  kind 
Not  well,  nor  fuUTWr  fasting. 
Why  so? 
More  we  enjoy  it,  more  it  dies; 
If  not  enjoyed,  it  sighing  cries—' 

Samutai»iei    I1S61-1619I 


Venus'  Runawayi  +791 

LOVE'S  iPERJtlRIES ,  , ,; 

Finn)  "Love's  LabortLort" 

On  a  day,  alack  the  dayl 
Love,  whose  mouth  is  ever  May, 
Spied  a  blossom  passing  fair 
Playing  in  the  wanton  air; 
Through  the  velvet  leaves, the  wind. 
All  unseen,  'gan  passage  find; 
That  the  lover,  sick  to  death, 
Wished  himself  the  heaven's  breath.    ^ 
Air,  qiioth  he,  thy  checks  may  blow; 
Air,  would  I  might  triumph  so!  . 
But,  alack,  my  hand  is  sworn 
Ut'eT  to  pliick  thee  from  thy  tliom:    , 
Vow,. alack,  for  youth  unmeet; 
Youth  so  apt  to  pluck  a  sweet. 
Do  not  call  it  sin  inmc 
That  I  am  forsworn  for  thee: 
Thou  for  whom  e'en  Jove  would  swear' 
Juno  but  an  Ethiope  were,        , 
And  deny  himself  for  Jove, 
Tiuning  mortal  tor  thy  love. 

William  Shakesffafe  \ls^-i 

VENUS'  RUNAWAY  ■      '  ■  '      i 

From'-TheHuesmJCry  Alter  Cupid"     '     '_ 

Bemties,  have  ye^een'this  toy,  ,  7 
CallM  Love,  a  little  boy, 
Almost  naked)  wanton,  blindi 

Cruel  now,  apd  th«n  as  kind?  ,  '/ 

n  he  be  amoQgat  ye,  sayi'  | 

He  is  Venus'  run^w^y,  ,  / 

She  that  i«ill  but  i^o^v  discover         / 
Where  the  wingfel  wag  doth  hover. 
Shall  Uhnight  E«ceive  a  kies, 
How  01  wberelMaseU  weuld  wiib:  '  >". 


480  Poems  of  Love 

But  who  brings  him  to  his  mother, 
Shall  have  that  kiss,  and  anotba. 

He  doth  bear  a  golden  bow, 
And  a  quiver,  hanging  low, 
Full  of  arrows,  that  outbrave 
Dian's  shafts;  where,  if  he  have 
Any  head  more  sharp  than  other, 
With  that  first  he  strikes  his  mother. 

Still  the  fairest  are  his  fuel. 
When  his  days  are  to  be  cruel. 
Lovers'  hearts  arc  all  his  food, 
And  his  baths  their  wannest  blood: 
Naught  but  wounds  his  hands  doth  season. 
And  he  hates  none  like  to  Reason. 

Trust  him  not;  his  words,  though  sweet, 
Seldom  with  his  heart  do  meet. 


Whatf  is  Love  ^'  4^4. 

AD  Me  ptactlcc  is  deceit;  <     >     :. 
Every  gift  il  IB  a  bait;  / 

Not  a  kiss  bat  poisom  bnis;  - 
And^oettiNsoDin  his  teus.i        1 

Idle  minutes  are  his  reign;.' 

And  that  he's  Veflus"  runaway.  - 

■  Bai  Joni«n'lisTif-it>ij\ 


From  "  Tin  CantulD  " 

Tell  mc;n«rc,  are  women  tnic? 
Yes,  some  are,  and  some  as  you. 
Some  are  willing,  some  arc  strange. 
Since  you  men  first  taught  to  cbaiige. 

Awdtili  troth 

AU  shall  love,  to  love  aoew. 


4.841  Poems '  of  Love 

Tell  me  more  yet,  can  thoy  grieve? 
Yes,  and  sickea  »re,  but  Ih*,        > 
And  be  wise,  and  delay. 
When  you  men  are  wise  as  they.    ■ 

Then  I  see, 

Faith  will  be 
Never  till  they  both  believe. 

Joim  Fktdur  \iS79-i6is] 


FMm  "  Vdnti^U  " 

Now  the  lusty  spring  is  seen; 
Golden  yellow,  gaudy  blue,  , 
I>aJnti]y  invite  the  view: 
Everywhere  on  evejy  green 
Roses  blushing  aa  they  blow. 
And  enticing  men  to  pull. 
Lilies  whiter  than  the  snow, 
Woodbines  of  sweet  honey  full: 
All  love's  emblems,  and  all  cry, 
"  Ladies,  if  not  plucked,  we  die." 
Yet  the  lusty  ^ring  hath  stayed; 
Blushing  red  and  purest  white 
Daintily  to  love  invite 
Every  woman,  every  maid: 
Cherries  kissing  as  they  grow, 
And  inviting  men  to  taste, 
Apples  even  ripe  below, 
Winding  gently  to  the  waist: 
All  love's  emblems,  and  all  cry, 
"Ladies,  if  not  plucked,  we  die," 

John  FUtcher  Us79->6'S] 


From  "  VafcnliBiMi " 

Heab,  ye  ladies  that  despise 
What  the  mighty  Lave  has  done; 

Fear  examples  and  be  wise: 
Fair  Callisto  WB&  a  nun; 


Advice'  to  a  LoVtr  4^3 

Leda,  sailing  on  the  stream 
To  deceive  the  bopts  of  mkn, ' 

AltLoug^  bis  goal  be  grteh--^ 

Love's  Martyr,  wfacn  his  teat  »  pait*  : 

Proves  Can't  Confessor  at  ths  ladt. 


p:hy  Google 

484t  '        PoeiiiSi  of .  Love  '' 


If  those  sharp  rays,  putting  on  .    , 

Points  of  deajj],  bid  Love  be  gone; — 
lliough  the  heavens  in  council  sate 
To  crown  an  uncontroE^d  fate;  I 

Though  their  best  a^iects  twined  upw! 
The  kindest  bonstdlatian, 
Cast  amorous  glances  on  its  birth,' 
And r whispered  the  confederate  earth 
To  pave  bis  paths  with  all  the  good 
That  wamis  the  bed  of  youth  and  blood  ;— 
Love  has  no  plea  against  her  eye; 
Beauty  frowns,  and  Love  must  die.    ^ 

But  if  her  milder  infiuonoB  move,  ' 
And  gild  the  hopes  of  hiteble  Love  ;-v  . 
Tbough  heavu'ainauipiciouaejx       -  ' 
Lay  blsck  on  Love's  nativity; 


"Ah.  How  Sweet  It  Is  To  Love"    ,4^5 

Tbov^  every  diamond  in  Jove's  crown 
Fixed  his  forehead  to  a  frown,— 
Her  ^e  a  strong  appeal  can  give, 
Beauty  smiles,  and  Love  sliall  live.' '  ^ 

O,  if  Leve  tbaU  live,  0  iriiere, 

Than  all  otlieT  pleasures  ate. 

Sighs  which  are  fiom  lovers  blown  ^ 
Do  but  gently  heave  the  heart: 

Even  tlw  tearilht^  shed  alone  .  1 
Cure,  like  trickling  balm,  their  smart : 

Lovers,  when  they  lose  theli  biealih,   : 

Bleed  away  in  easy  desth.-  '■  •  • 

Love  and  Tline  wish  revotnoe  use,  1 
Treat  them  like  ^parting  fricbd; 

Nor  the  gfM«n  glftb  telusc  ' 

Which  in  yoic^  riiwefti  they  send: 

p:hy  Google 

486   '  I   ■   Poems  of  Love    ,'  .■  . 

For  eadi  ytax  their  price  is  .moMv-  1 
And  (hey  lees  simple  than  beftife.. 

Love,  like  spring-tides  full  and  high. 

Swells  in  every  youthful  vein; 
But  each  tide  does  less  supply,'       ' 
/  Till  they  quite  shrink  in  again :,i.', 

r'  If  a  flow  in  Agp  appear, 

Tis  but  raui,  and  inns  not  deai.  ■ 

John  Drydtn  I11631- 

Aod  in  rough  weather  tossed; 
They  wither  under  cold  delays, 
Or  are  in  tempests  lost. 

One  while  they  seem  to  touch  the  port, 

Then  straight  into  the  main     ■'  - ' 
Some  angry  wind,  in  cruel  sport,   ' 

The  vessel  drives  again. 

■■  ,7 
At  first  Dtsdniu  and  Pride  they  fea«,  ■ 

Which  if  they  chance  to  'scape,  .    , 
Rivals  and  Falsehood  soon  appear, 

In  a  more  dreadful  shape. 

By  such  degrees  to  joy  they  comeL, 

And  u6  so  long  withstood. 
So  slowly  they  receive  the  sun. 

It  hardly  does  them  good, 

'TIS  cnid  to  pEolong  «  pftin; 

Aod  to  defer  a  joy,  , 

Believe  me,  gentle  CetcRKiDiet 

(Mends  the  wingdd  boy. 


■  Song,  1^87 

An  hundred  thousand  oaths  your  fears. 

Perhaps,  would  not,  remove; 
And  if  I  gazed  a  thousand  years, 

I  could  not  deeper  love. 

Charles  Sedky  [lejo?-"?"! 


The  wine  of  Love  is  music. 

And  the  feast  of  Love  is  aonf.i  . 
And  when  Love  sits  down  to  the  baoviet. 

Love  sits  long: 

Sits  long  and  arises  drunken, 
But  not  with  the  feast  and  the  wine; 

He  reeleth  with  his  own  heart. 
That  great,  rich 'vine. 

Jama  Tkomm  [4834-1883I 


lat  note 

lath  chatted  me. 

larmcd  mer 
doth  come,— 

Of  all  delight. 
I  have  no  other  choice 
Either  for  pen  or  voice 
To  sing  or  write. 

0  love,  they  wrong  thee  mach 
That  say  thy  sweet  i&  bitter 

When  thy  rich  fruit  is  such 

As  nothing  can  be  sweeter. 
Fair  house  of  joy  and  bliss 
Where  truest  pleasure  is, 
I  do  adore  thee: 

1  tnow  thee  what  thou  ut, 
I  aerr^  thee  with'iny  heart, 

And  faU  befote  thee. 


488  Poems  of  Love 


Cupid  once  upon  a  bed  '  ' 

Of  roses  laid  his  weary  head; 

Luckless  urchin,  not  to  see 

Within  the  leaves  a  slumbering  bee. 

The  bee  awaked — with  anger  wild 

The  bee  awaked,  and  stung  the  child. 

Loud  and  piteous  are  his  cries; 

To  Venus  quick  he  runs,  he  fliesj    -     I 



Thus  he  spoke,  and'ske  the  while 


T'other  day,  as  1  was  twining 
Roses,  for  a  trowh  Iodine  in,       ,1) 
What,  oEi  all  things,  'mid  the  heftp. 
Should  I  li^t  on,  fast  adeep,  •;        ,  ,7 
But  the  little  de^temte  elf,  , 

The  liny  traitor,  Love,  himself!. 
By  the  wings  I  picked  him  up 
Like  a  bee,  and  in  a  cup  >:    i 

Of  my  wineljduBgedandealiklufl^  I 
Then  what  d'yeithinkll  didf-i-l.dran)L  him. 
Faith,  I  thought ,bibi  dead.    Not  he! 
There  he  lives  with  ten-fold  glee; 


"In  the'Day*  of  Old"  439. 

And  now  this  moment  With  he  ^Jnings 
I  feel  bim  tickling  nty  heart-stritfgs. 

Oh!  say  not  woman's  false  as  fair, 

That  like  the  bee  she  ranges! 
Still  seeking  flowers  more  sweet  and  rare, 

As  fickle  fancy  ithanges.  .    ,  '    li 

Ahl  no,  the  love  that  fiist  can  wana 

WiU  I^ve  her  boson  never;  ..  // 

No  second  pnssioa  e'er  can  cb^rm,  '         ..,{ 

She  loves,  and  loves  ior  ever. 

ThotHO)  l/me  Peacock  Wiis^\i6t\ 

"IN  THE  DAYS  OF  OLD"  1 

Pnun  "  DMcIkI  CMtk  " 

In  the  days  of  old  .       | 

Loven  felt  true  passioji, 

Deeming  yearp  of  Borrow 

By  a  smile  repaid: 

Now  thecliflTms  of  gold, 

SpeUs  of  pride  and  fashion,     -  ' 

Bid  them  say  Good-n 

To  the  best-loved  Maid. 

Through  the  forests  wild, ' 
O'er  the  mountains  lonely, 
ITiey  were  never  weaiy 
Honor  to  pursue : 


Poems  of  Love 

If  the  damsel  smiled 
Once  in  seven  yeus  only, 
All  theit  wanderings  dreary 
Ample  guerdon  knew. 


How  delidous  is  the  winning 
Of  a  kiss  at  Love 's  beginning. 
When  two  mutual  hearts  are  sighing 
For  the  knot  there's  no  untyingi 

Yet  remember,  'midst  your  wooing. 
Love  has  bliss,  but  Love  has  ruing; 
Other  smiles  may  make  you  fickle, 
Tcara  for  other  charms  may  trickle. 

Love  he  comes,  and  Love  he  tarries. 
Just  as  fate  or  fancy  carries; 
Longest  stays,  when  sorest  chidden;  ■ 
Laughs  and  fUes,  when  pressed  and  bidden. 

Bind  the  sea  to  dumber  stilly, 
Bind  its  odor  to  the  lily, 
Bind  the  aspen  ne'er  to  quiver, 
Then  bind  Love  to  Ust  forever! 

Love's  a  fire  that  needs  renewal 

Of  fresh  beauty  for  its  fuel: 

Love's  wing  moults  when  caged  and  captured, 

Only  free,  he  soars  enraptured. 




Can  you  keep  tk  bee  {rom  n^nging, 
Or  the  lingdovc's  neck  imtti  changing? 
No!  nor  fettered  Love  from  dying 
In  the  knot  there's  no  untying. 

Tk»iMa  Campbdi  |i777->Si4l 

When  lovers  parted' 
Feel  brcken-hearted, 
And,  ail  bapea  thwarted, 

Expect  to  die; 
A  few  yeara  older, 
AL[  how  mudi  colder 
They  might  behold  her 
.   For  whom  they  sighl 
When  linked  together, 
In  iBvery  weather, 
They  pluck  Love 's  feather 

From  out  his  wing- 
He  'II  stay  for  ewr, 
But  tadty  shiver  ;. 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of.  Love 

Without  his  pJumage,    < 
Wbeo  post  the  ^riog, 

Like  Chiefs  of  Fictiaat  <i 
His  life  is  action^ 
A  formal  paction 

That  curbs  his  retga, 
Obscure^  his  glory, 
Despot  no  more,  he 
Sudi  territory 

Quits  with  disdsiilL 
Still,  sttU  advancing, 
With  banners  ^nmg. 
His  power  enhancing, 
■  He  miist  move  OB— ' 
RefKBe  but  cloys  him. 
Retreat  destroys  him, 
Ixwrt  liKpoks  not  a       ■ 

Degraded  throne. 

"Waft  not,  fond  loverl 
Till  yeare  are  over,       ' 
And  then  recover, 

As  from  a  dream. 
While  each  bewailing 
The  other's  failing. 
With  wrath  and  raifingi 

All  hideous  seem— 
WWIe  first  decreasing. 
Yet  not  quite  ceasing. 
Wait  not  till  teasing 

All  passion  blight: 
If  once  diminidied 
Love's  reign  is  flhished— 
,Then  part  in  friendship,— 

And  bid  good-ni^t: 

So  Shalt  Affection  • 
To  recollection  ' 
The  dear  Connection     ' 


"They  'S^eafcO'  WHes"  49J 

.     -     'Briiig  back  with  Joy:      i       : 
You  bod  not  waited'  I 

■   Taf/iittdorhttod,  I 

Your  piassiOBS 'Wteei 

They  "speak  o'  wilts  in  vi 

I  ken  they  bring  a  panfj  at  ■whikd 
Thaf's  unco"  s4tr  to  <Jipee ;  ■ 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of.  Love.-  ;  - 

But  mind  yii  tins  tbe  baUMfen  kiss, 

Tlie  first  fond  Wia'  tear,  . 
Is,  heaven  keta,  iv'  snflset  aEtmids, 

An' tints  o' btaven  here. 

When  two  leal  hearts  in  fondness  meet, 
Life's  tempests  howl  in  vain; 

The  very  tears  o'  love  are  sweet 
When  paid  with  tears  again. 

Shall  hapless  prudence  shake  Its  pow? 

Shall  cauldrife  caution  fear? 
Oh,  dinna,  dihna  droun  the  loWe 

That  lights  a  heaven'here! 


Over  the  mouAtafau  ' ' 

And  over  the  waves,       '  ' 
Vrider  the  foantlnns 

And  under  the  graves, 
Under  floods  that  ape  deepen. 

Which  Neptune  obey. 
Over  rocks  that  are  iteepnH', 

Love  will  find  owt  the  why. 

Where  thoe  is  i>o,piace 

For  the  glew-wonn  to  lie. 
Where  tbsre  e  tto  space 

For  receipt  of »  fly, 
Where  the  midge  dares  not  venture, 

Lest  herself  fast  she  lay. 
If  Love  come,  he  will  enter. 

And  find  out  the  way, 

"  Ybii  may  qsteem  him    . 
A  child  for  his  migbc, 
Or  you  may  d^em  tdm 
A  cowBKl  .from  his  SigjbU 


A  Woman's  Sfaoitcbmings  49;^ 

But  iEfihewI)6Di  Lowe  dotbWKir    . 

Be  coBceaietf  ^'''"i  1^  *^y> 
Set  a  thaustnd  guards  upon  bnr. 

Love  will  find  out  tbe  vag.  . 

Some  tbink  to  lose  hint. 
By  having  him  confined,  ' 

And  some  do  suppose  him,  ' 

Poor  thing,  to  be  blind; 
But  if  ne'er  so  dose  ye  wall  him, 

Do  the  best  that  you  may,  ■ 
Blind  Love,  if  so  ye  call  him, 

Will  find  out  the  way.  i 

Vou  may  train  the  eagle 

To  stoop  to  your  fist, 
Or  you  may  invei^e 

The  phoenix  of  the  east ; 
Tile  tiger,  ye  may  move  her  ' 

To  give  over  her  prey; 
But  you  11  ne'er  stop  a  lover —  '  '  ' 

He  will  find  out  the  way.  '  ' 

A  WCftfAN^S  aiORTCOMINGS     / 

She  has  bughed  as  softly  as  if  she  ^ghed. 

She  has  county  six,  and  over. 
Of  a  pu^  well  filled,  aud  a  heart  well  tried— 

Oh,  each  a  worthy  lover!    . 
They  "give  her  time";  for  her  sold  must  slip 

Where  the  world  has  set  the  grooving; 
She  will  lie  ,to  pone  with  her  fpir  red  Ijp; 

But  love  seeks  truer  loving. 

SStetremUc^her  fan  ina  swectneBs.dtutb, 
As  her  thoogbts  wen  beyond  njcalEng; 

With-  a'  glaitce  f<x  ent,  and  a  glance  for  some, 
Ftom  her  eyelids,  risiiig  and  iaUatg; 

p:hy  Google 

W^  Poemis  of  Lovie  '    /. 

Speaks  ountnon  woHs  with  a  bhuhful  air, 

Hears  bold  words,  imrepTOviDgi 
But  her  eJknce" says— what  abe  never  iw31  swear — 

And  love  aedts  betwr  loving. 

Go,  ladyl  lean  to  tine  oight-guitat, 

And  drop  a  uuiie  to  the  bringer; 
Then  smile  as  sweetly,  when  he  is  £ar,  , 

At  the  voice  oC  an  in-door  singer. 
Bask  tejidei'ly  beneath  lender  eyes;      ,;] 

Glance  lightly,  on  their  removing; 
And  join  ne.w  vows  to  old  perjuri^ —     ■ 

But  dare  not  call  it  loving! 

Unless  you  c 

No  other  i: 
Unless  you  c 

That  all  n: 
Unless  you  c:  «ath, 

That  your 
Unless  you  c 

Oh,  [ear  to 

iTntess  you  can  muse  in  a  crowd  all  day 

On  the  absent  face  that  fined  you; 
Unless  you  can  love,  as  the  angels  may, 

With  the  breadth  o£  heaven  bettnixf  y<Ai; 
Unless  you  can  dream  that  his  faith  is  fasf, 

Through  behoving  and  unbehovitig;      '  /_ 
Unless  you  can  die  when  the  dream  is  pasi— ^ 

Oh,  never  call  it  loving! 

Elizabeth  Barren  Brmi'mng  [iAo6-i85i! 


From  "To  My  Son" 

'Lov^hatba  language  (oraUyfiaa-^.v 

-  'F«nd'hierDglyphs,obBt:weand(»ld/7- 

< Wherdn  the  heart  reads,  writ:iii  teaH,// 

Tfac  ufe  which  nsvei  yeH'ma  taldjl 



Love  hsth  Us  ORtiJr  lea,  tD.lraoe 

Those  bemida  winch  navtc.ycLfrare  given,— 
To  measure tinrb  wkic^  noc^atapacef 

Is  deep  as  death,  and  }iigh  as  beaii^n. 

Love  bath  hfe  treasure  hoanfe,'topay 
True  faith,  or  goodly  service  done, — ' 

Dear  priceless  nothings,  which  outweigh 
All  riches  that  the  sun  shines  on.-    ■  '■ 

>/4m  5(Mm  £iWr*dEin  [1S07-1 

O,  LET  the  solid  ground. 

Not  fail  beneath  my  feet       , 
Before  my  life  has  found  ^ 

What  some  have  found,  so  sweet; 
Then  let  come  what  come  may, 
Wlwt  matter  if  I  go  inad, 
I  shall  have  had  my  day,         ,    , 

L£t  tI^3Weet,hea.v«npciKU(rer,  a 

Not  close  ud'dai!kep  abqw  me 

Before  I  am  (mite qHita sue,       1 

Ttwt  J^h«¥  is  one  to  JovB  m«l 
Thenl^tconeiWhat  come  may.  . 
To  a, life  that  h^bceas>  sad,,! 
I  shall  have  baid  my  d^y.-    .    ;     ; 

,  ,    Aifred  TfoiiytiOit  [iSog-iSt)i] 

■-     AtfATURlJS        ■      '■ 

-■■     .      .,  ■-.■■,/ 

SOUEWHERE  beneath  the  sun, 

These  quivering  heariTstrings  ppjye  it. 
Somewhere  there  must  be  one  ,' 

Made  for  this  soul  fo  move  it;     . 

p:hy  Google 

498  Poems  of -Love 

Some  one  that  hides  her  svnttatad  .<  ■ 
From  neighbors  wbom  Bfacsligjita« ' 

Nor  can  attaio  completeness, 
Nor  give  her  heart  its  nglHs;      "    I 

Some  one  whom  I  could  court 

Gets  ovemear  to  doting; 
Keen  lips,  that  shape  soft  saying^ 

Like  crystals  of  the  snow,  ■ 
With  pretty  half-betntyin^ 

Of  things  one  may  not  khofr; 
Fair  hand  whose  toudies  thriH, 

Like  eidd«i  rod  of  wonder, 
Which  Hemes  widds  at  wiU 

Spirit  and  flesh  to  sunder; 
Light  foot,  to  press  the  stirrup 

In  fearlessness  and  glee. 
Or  dance,  tilifinctfes  c^irnip. 

And  stars  sink  to  the  sea. 
Forth,  Love,  and  find  this  maid, 

Wherever  she  be  hiddco: 
Speak,  Love,  be  not  afraid,       ~     , 

But  plead  as  thou  art  bidden; 

p:hy  Google 

A  BatloA  of  D»a»iland  49$ 

And  s»y,  do^  he  vb»  taigbt  ihoe    1 

Hu  yearoiig  want  and  pain. 
Too  dearly,  dearly  bought  thee 

To  pait  widi  tbee  in  vain. 


Nor  heed  the  alow  years  bnngmg 

A  harsher  voice; 
Because  the  songs  ^rtiicb  be  has  sung 
Still  leave  the  untouched  singer  young. 

But  whom  in  fuller  fashion  ■   ■  ,    .. 

The  Master  sways, 
For  him,  swift-winged  with  passion. 

Fleet  the  brief  days. 
Befimes  the  enforced  accents  come, 
And  leave  him  ever  after  dumb. 

Lewis  Morris  [1833-1007) 


I HD)  my  heart!  in  a  nest  of  roses, 

Out  of  the  sun's  way,  hidden  apart; 
In  a  softer  bed  then  the  soft  white  snow's  is, 

Under  the  roses  I  hid  my  heart. 

Why  would  it  sleep  not?  why  should  It  start, 
■When  never  a  leaiof  the  rtse^trec  stirred? 

Wh»t.ihade'deep  fluttes  bi3  mtigs  and  part? 
(My  the  son^of  a  seoet  bird.    ■■    ' 



PtartiB  of  JjOV*! 

Lie  still,  I  said,  for  tliewmd's  wintdows, 

And  mild  leaves  muffle  the,  keen -sua '>: dart; 

Lie  still,  for  the  wind  oa  the  wann  aeaa  dwW*, 
And  the  wind  is  unquirfer  yet  thu  thOu  art. 
■    Does  a  thought  in  thee  stiU  as  a  thorn's  wound  smart? 

Does  the  fang  still  fret  thee  of  hope  deferred? 
Wha^  bids  the  lips  of  thy  sleep  dispart?    ,^^,, 

Only  the  song  of  a  secret  bird. 

The  green  land's  name  that  a  chann  encloses. 
It  never  was  writ  in  the  traveller's  chart. 

And  sweet  on  its  trees  as  the  fruit  that  grows  is. 
It  never  was  sold  in  the  merchant's  fiiart' 
The  swallows  of  dreams  through  its  dim  tklds  dart. 

And  sleep's  are  the  tunes  in  its  tree-tops  hcard^; 
No  hound's  note  wakens  the  wildwood  hart, 

Only  the  song  of  a  secret  bird. 

In  the  wo'i 

Of  true  lo' 


TnE  rising  moon  has  hid  the  stars; 

Her  level  rays,  like  golden  bars,  .  , 

Lie  on  the  landscape  green,       ^ 
With  shadows  brown  between. 

And  «1ver  white  the  .river  gleanis,   ; 

As  if  Diana,  in  her  dreams 

Had  dropped  her  silVer  bow 
Upon  the  meadows  low. 


Endymion  ■'  '■  'pi 

On  such  a  tranquil  ni^t  as  this, 

She  woke  Endymipt  'wjth  a  kiss, 

When,  sleeping  in  the  grove, 
He  dreamed  not  of  her  love. 

Like  Dian's  kiss,  unasked,  unsought. 
Love  gives  itself,  but  is  not  bought; 
Nor  voiw,  nor  sound  betrays 
It$  deep,  impassioned  gaze. 

It  comes,— 4he  beautiful,  the  free. 
The  crown  of  all  humanity, — 

Id  ^eDC*«nd  alone 

To  seek  the  elected  one. 

It  Kits  the  boughs,  whose  shadows  deep    - 

Are  life's  oblivion,  the  soul 's  sleep. 
And  kisses  the  closed  eyes 
Of  him  who  slumbering  lies. 

0  weary  hearts!   O  slumbering  eyes! 
O  drooping  souls,  whose  destinies 

Are  fraught  with  fear  and  pain, 

Ye  shall  be  loved  again! 

No  one  is  so  accursed  by  fate, 
No  one  ao  utteriy  desolate. 

But  some  heart,  though  unknown, 

Responds  unto  his  own. 

Responds,— as  if  with  unseen  wings, 
An  angel  touched  its  quivering  strings; 
And  whispers,  in  its  song, 
"Where  hast  thou  stayed  so  (ong?" 
Beury  Wadsworlh  Lonffdloit/  I1807-1 


JO?  Fooms  of  I-ovc 


Two  shall  be  bora,  the  whole, wide  world  apart. 
And  speak  in  different  tongues  and  have  no  thought 
Each  of  the  other's  being,  and  no  heed. 
And  these,  o'er  unknown  seas,  to  unknown  lands 

Shall  cross,  escaping  wreck,  def}^g  death; 
And  all  unconsciously  shape  every  act 
And  bend  each  wandering  step  to  this  one  end — 
That,  one  day,  out  of  darkness  they  shall  meet 
And  read  life's  meaning  in  taxb  other's  ^rw-  ' 

And  two  shall  walk  some  Harrow  way  <A  life 

So  nearly  side  by  side  that,  should  one  turn 

Ever  so  little  space  to  left  or  right, 

They  needK  must  stand  ackoowkdgedi  iaqt  tp  face. 

And,  yet,  with  wistful  eyes  that  never  rmeet    ■ 

And  groping  hands  that  never  da^  aiid  Ups 

Calling  in  vain  to  eare  that  never  kear. 

They  seek  each  other  all  their  weary  days 

And  die  unsatisfied—and  this  is  Fatel 

Susan  Uarr  Spalding  li&    -   7    ] 


Give  all  to  love, 
Obey  thy  heart; 
Friends,  kindred,  days, 
Estate,  good  fame, 
■  Plans,  credit,  and  the  Muse,— 
Nothing  refuse. 

Tis  a  brave  master; 
Let  it  have  scope: 
Follow  it  utterly, 
Hope  beyond  hope: 
High  and  more  high 

p:hy  Google 

"Givo  AH  To  Love"  503 

It  dtves  into  noon, 
With  wing  uupent, 
Untold  intent; 
But  it  is  a  god. 
Knows  its  own  path 
And  the  outlets  of  the  sky. 

It  was  never  for  the  mean;  '     '     ' 

Leave  all  for  love; 
Yet,  hear  me,  yet, 
Oae  word  mace  thy  heart  bdioved. 
One  pulee  more  o*  finn  endeavor, — 
Keep  thee  to-di^, 
-  To-morrow,  forever, 
Free  as  an  Arab 
Of  thy  beloved. 

Thou^  thov  loved  het  as  thysdif, 
As  a  self  of  piu«  clay. 
Though  hei  paitlng  dims  the  day, 
Stealing  grace  from  all  alive; 

p:hy  Google 


•Ptfcms'  of  Love  ■  ■  ' 

Heartily  know,  '1 

When  half-gods  gD,  '/ 

The  gods  arrive.  ' 

Ralph  H'Wdy  Emaiim  (ISoj-i 

O,  LOVE  is  not  a  summer  mood, 

Nor  flying  phantom  of  the  brain, 
Nor  youthful  fever  of  the  blood, 

Nor  dream,  nor  fate,  nor  circutnstance. 
Love  is  not  bom  of  blinded  chancs, 
Nor  bred  in  simple  ignorance. 

Love  is  the  flower  of  maidenhood; 

Love  is  the  fruit  of  mortal  pain;       ' 
And  she  hath  winter  in  her  blood. 

True  love  is  steadfast  as  thcskks, 
And  once  ali^,  she  never  flied; 
And  love  is  strong,  and  love  is+'isc. 

■     Rtcfcifrf  WalMU  Gilder  11844-1009] 


SOWE  find  Love  late,  some'firtd'hinl  foon, 

Some  with  the  rose  in  May, 
Some  with  the  nightingale  in  June,  -"'■  ' 

And  some  when  skies  are  gray; 
Love  comes  to  some  with  Smiling  eytt, ' 

And  comes  with  tears  to  some; 
For  some  Love  sings,  for  some  Love  sighs. 

For  some  Love's  lips  are  dumb.'"' 

How  will  you  come  to  me,  fair'L<lvo?i'  i 
Will  you  come  late  or  soon?  •    ' 

With  sad  or  smiling  Skies  ajxtve, 

By  light  of  sun  or  moon?  ■    .  1  ' 


The  Secrer 

'  Wfllyoo  be  sod,  wiH  you  be  »eet, : 
Shig,  slgli.  Love,  or  be  dumb? 
Will  it  be  summer  when  ve  moct, 
n  ere  you  come? 

n  Btattj  [1S55- 


Lo,  all  thihgs'wakeancltfirfy  and  look  far  thee: 
She  Iwkcth  and  Strith.  ''0  sun,  now  bri*ig  him  to  me. 
Come,  more  adored,  O  adftred.  ftrhis  ctrtning's  sake, 
And  awake;  rtiy  heart;  t6  be  loved,  awake,  awake! " 
Rebm  Bmigt}  (iSss- 


NlOBTINCALES  watfcle  about  it 
ATI  night  under  blossoni  and  Star; 

TTic  wild  s^van  is  dying  wkhonl  it, 
And  theeagte  cTieth  afar;  ■■■  ' 

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Poems  of  Love 

The  sun,  be  doth  mount  but  to  find  it, 
Searching  the  greea  earth  o'er; 

But  more  dotti  a  man's  heart  mind  it — 
O  more,  more,  morel 

Over  the  gray  leagues  of  ocean 

The  infinite  yeameth  atone; 
The  forests  with  wandering  emotion 

The  thing  they  luiow  not  intone; 
Creation  arose  but  to  see  it, 

A  million  lamps  in  the  blue; 
But  a  lover,  he  shall  be  it, 

If  one  sweet  maid  is  true. 

George  Edieard  Woodberry  [i8ss- 


When  Love,  our  great  Immort^, 

Put  on  mortality, 
And  down  from  Eden's  portal 

Brought  this  sweet  lite  to  be, 
At  the  sublime  archangel 

He  laughed  with,  veiled  eyes, 
For  he  bore  within  his  bosom 

The  seed  of  Paradise. 

He  hid  it  in  his  bosom. 

And  there  such  narnith  it  iound. 
It  brake  in  bud  and' bloBSOm, 

And  tbejiose  fell  on  thegieund; 
As  the  green  light  on  the  prairie, 
,  As  the  red  light  on  the  sea. 
Through  fragrant  belts  of  summer 

Came  this  sweet  life  to  be. 

And  the  0%ve  archangel  seeiQftv . 

Spread  his  mighty  wings  for,  flight. 
But  the  glow  hung  round  him  fleet^ 

Like  the  loge  of  an  Arctic  night; 

p:hy  Google 

Love  is  Strong 

And  sadly  moving  heavenward 
By  Venus  and  by  Mars, 

He  heard  the  joyful  planets 
Hail  Earth,  the  Rose  of  Stars. 
Geerge  Bduard  Woadberry  [t. 

Bloom,  violets,  lilies,  and  roses! 
But  what,  young  Desire, 


All  day  long  on  the  highway 
The  King's  fleet  couriers  ride; 

You  may  hear  the  tread  of  their  horses  sped 
Over  the  country  side. 

They  ride  for  life  and  they  ride  for  death 

And  they  override  who  tarrieth. 
With  show  of  color  and  fiush  of  pride 
They  stir  the  dust  on  the  highway. 

Let  them  ride  on  the  highway  wide. 
Love  walks  In  little  paths  aside. 

All  day  long  on  the  highway 
Is  a  tiamp  of  an  army's  feet; 
You  may  w«  tbem  go  in  a  marshaied  row 

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lo  Poems  of  LoVe 

With  the  tale  of  their  arms  complete; 
They  march  for  war  and  they  march  for  peace, 
For  thi-  Just  of  gold  and  fame's  increase, 

For  victories  sadder  than  defeat 

They  raise  the  dust  on  the  highway. 

All  the  armies  of  eaJth  defied,  .  ' 

Love  dwells  in  little  paths  a^de. 

All  day  long  on  the  highway     ' 
Rushes  an  eager  band. 

With  straining  eyes  for  a  worthless  prize 
That  slips  from  the  grasp  like  sand. 
And  men  ieavebkwd  whore  their  icet  haw  stood 
And  bow  them  down  unto  brass  and  wood- 
Idols  fashioned  by  tfieir  own  hand — 
Blind  in  the  dust  of  the  highway. 

Power  and  gold  and  fame  denied. 
Love  laughs  glad  in  the  patlis  a«de. 

L9uh«  Driiuli  |<8}5- 

Take  it,  love! 
'Twill  soon  be  over. 
With  the  thickening  of  the  dover, 
With  the  calling  of  the  plover, 
Take  it,  take  it,  lover. 

Take  it,  boy  I 

The  blossoin's  falling. 

And  the  farewell  cuckoo's  calling, 

While  the  sun  and  sliowers  are  ode, 

Take  your  love  out  in  die  sdn. 

And  fear  no  after,    . 
Take  your  fill  of  all  this  laughter. 
Laugh  or  not,  the  tears  will  fall, 
Take  the  laughter  first  of  all.  ■    ' 

Sichvd  Le  OtUiMM*  tiStffr- 


Song  51, 


D,g,t,7P:hy  Google 

' ^T'i  Poems  ttf  Love 

And  the  great  doors  opened  wide  apart 
AihI  t  vtAce  Vang  out  from  a  glorr  <tf  l^t; 

"Make  room,  make  room  for  a.  faithful  heai| 
In  the  House  of  Xove,  to-night." 

Alfred  Xoycs  [iSflo- 

" CHILD.  CHILD"        , 
CinLD,  child,  love  while  yon  can  ■    ' 

The  voice  and  (he  eyes  and  the  bouI  o!  a  m*h. 
Never  fear  though  it  bteok  your  heart —  i 
Out  of  ihc  wound  new  joy  will  stai-f, 

Love,  for  the  deadly  sins  are  seven, 
Only  through  love  will  you  enter  heaven. 

Sara  Teasdak  [1S84- 

.    ^  WISDOM  ' 

The  young  girl  questions:  "Whether  were  it  bet|.ef 
To  lie  for  ever,  a  warm  slug-a-bed, 
Or  to  rise  up  and  bide  by  Fate  and  Chance,  , 

-  Thi  rawness  0I  the  morning,  /; 

The  gibing  and  the  scorning 
Of  the  stern  Teacher  of  my  ignorance? "  1 

"I  know  not,"  Wisdom  said. 

The  young  girl  questions:  "Friend,  shall  I  die  rahtit^. 
If  I've  iain  for  ever,  sheets  above  the  head. 
Warm  in  a  dream,  or  rise  lo  take  the  worst 

Of  peril  in  the  highways 

Of  straying  in  the  by-ways, 
Of  hunger  for  the  truth,  of  drought  and  thirscf "     ' 

'*Wp  do  not  know,"  he  said, 

"Not  may  till  we  be  dead." 

Ford  Madox  Uucffer  {lAiif 


Epilogw     '.  5,13. 

FROM     Emblems  OF  love"  ,;_, 

What  shall  ve^da  fin- Lore  tileaicl»yi^>'  nl 
How  shall  we  make  an  akuvblani  ;  '  '  -,'  I 
To  smite  the  bomy«ye>iofinfeA  !■ -: 

With  the  renown  ttf'Otir  Heavoi, 
And  to  th^  \uibtl&vsrsprt>v6  '  . .  ■  1  .1 
Our  service  to  our  dauigod;  Lore? .  .  ^  ■  1 
What  torches  shall  we  lift  aboV«_  I  1  r 
Thecrowd.tbatpusbesthrou^  the  mini,  iu 
To  amaze  the  dark  beads  *ilh  ^t^n^  fiite?-; 
I  should  think'I"we[e3nucb'l,o  hlaihe,  ";'( 
If  neverlheldaome-frBgiaoK^fltoKi  '  n  1 
Above  the  DoisM  of  thcwMrld,  7  ':■■.,-.!: 
And  openly  taid  TOom'a  bozrying  stares^'  ■ ' 
Worshipped  bfioiv  the  saowd  feara  .!  '  ■.;.  1' 
Hiat  are  like  fla^ng  curtaina'fnk^led'. . 
Across  tfacpresencflofowrlord.LiWve.  .-.  '  V 
Nay,  would-that  I  could  6U  the  gaze  ' '  '.' 
Of  the  whole  eaith  with' some  ^eai  firaite/ 
Made  in  a  marvel  Ion  mcn's.eyvs,  .  /  I  :  // 
Some  tower  of  glittering: -Dtastwrils,  ~  ' 
ThcreED  such  a  spirit  fl3UEiiliiiig  .  :'.-<■.  ') 
Men  shoulder  what  myi  heart  con  iihgf:!  ' 
All  that  Lovt  Jlath  done  to  nw  .  ' '  ■  i 
Built  into  stone,  a -nsiUe  gkc;  ■  ,  -  i' 
Marblecarried  to  giemniafrheifht  :  / 
As  moved' aktft  by  jnwaid  ddi^it; 
Notas  vrith  (oilof  cfaoebhetrni  .  '■  I  1  / 
But  seeming  poisHin-biAighty.tiluif.'  •  >  ") 
For  of  all  those  ^hft  have  been- kngwn.'  ' 
To  lodge  with  our  Idad  best,  the-^ui,. .  ■  -'.A 
I  envy  one  for  justtoriethiilgr-'  ■    ■'     ■■••■.'' 

In  Cordova  of  the  Moors: '.  i--\::-} 

"nieredweltapateiaiv-raindedEing,  1  I  '. 
Who  set  great  bands  6(  marble'heweis  m  ) 
To  fashion  his  tiearf&tbahk^iving  :  '7 
Ins'tiflpBtaarCba^ltaO'       <.•       :!  j.n- 


JJ4-.  Poems  of  Uove 

All  the  wondering  world  might  know 
The  joy  he  had  of  his  Moorish  lass. 
His  love,  that  brighter  and  larger  was 
Than  the  starry  places,  firm  stone 
He  sent,  as  if  the  stone  were  glass 
Fired  and  into  beauty  blown. : 
Solemn  and  invented  gravely 
In  its  bulk  the  fabric  stood, 

Of  carven  delicate  ornament, 
Wreathing  up  like  ravishment, 
Mentioning  in  scu^tures  twined 
The  blith^ess  Love  hath  in  Ins  mind; 
And  like  delighted  senses  were 
The  windows,  uid  the  columns  ther^ 
Made  the  following  sight  to  adie 
As  the  heart  that  did  them  make. 
Well  I  can  see  that  shining  soiig 

Of  that  palace  mt;^  have  been 

A  young  god's  fantasy,  ere  he  catoe 

His  serious  worlds  aad  Btais  to  tome; 

Such  an  immortal  passion  /      ' 

Quivered  among  the  riiih  hewn  stone:  ' 

And  in  the  nights  it  seemed  a  jar 

Cut  in' the  substance  of  a  star,  / 

Wherein  a.  wine,  that  will  be  poured 

Some  time  for  feasting  Heaven,  wa^  Mored. ' 


JipUogue , r\  5^5 

D,g,t,7P:hy  Google 

jKi  Poems  of  Love 

All  the  outer  world  could  see    .   i     ■  .' 
Graved  ^d  saws  amazingly  T 

Their  love's  delighted  riotisB,'  i 

Fixed  in  marble  for  all  men's  cyes)    >  ■  1 1 
But  onl)"  these  twain'  could  abide  I 

In  the  cool  peace  that  wiibinside        <    ' ' 
Thrilling  dttire  and  pusion  dwelt; 
They  only  knew  the  acil  meaning'qKlt 
By  Love's  flaming  script,  which  is  ] 

Glxi's^vo^d  written  in  ecstasies. 

And  Where  is  now  that  paiace-gotte^ 
All  the  magical  skilled  stone, 
All  the  droamuig  towets  wrought 
By  Love  as  if  no  more  than  though 
The  unresisting  marble  ^was?  "' 

How  could  such  a  wobdet  pan?  ' 

Ah;  it  was  but  buih  in  vatn  '    '■ 

Against  the  stupid  homB  of  fone,  ' ' 

That  pushed  down  into  the  common  loam 
The  lovelinesd  that  shone  in  Spain.       ■'"'. 
But  we  have  raised  it  up  agam! 
A  loftier  palace,  fairer  far, 
Is  ours,  and  one  that  feats  no  woe        '  ' 
Si^e  in  marvellous  wallsL  we  are; 
Wondering  sertse  like  bulhled  fire^    >    "  > 
High  amazement  of  danVes, 
Delight  and  certainty  of  ktve. 
Closing  around,  rooBng  above  i 

Our  unapptoacbed  and  perfect  hoar 
Within  the  spleodors  of  love's  poweri 

LMMtUts  Abenrtmiieiie&i- 


Against  the  green  fiame  of  the  hawthorn-tree, 
Hb  scarlet  tunic  burns; 

And  livelier  than  the  green  sap's  mantling  glpe 
The  Spring  fire  tingles  through  him  headily  , 
As  quivering  he  turns  •    r.   r 


Once  on  a  Time  517 

And  stammers  out  the  old  amazing  tale 

Of  youth  and  April  weather; 

While  she,  with  half-breathed  jests  that,  sobbing,  fail, 

Sits,  tight-lipped,  quaking,  eager-eyed  and  pale. 

Beneath  her  purple  feather. 

Wilfrid  Wilson  Gibson  [1878- 


Once  on  a  time  a  Saxon  king 
Who  loved  a  queen  of  Rome. 

The  worid  has  but  one  song  losing,,      .^    , 

The  first  and  last  o[  all  the  songs 

F«f  k  is  ever  true—  ,  ,-.  .j 

A  little  song,  a  tender  soog, 

TheMily  song  >t  hath; 
"There  was  a  youth  of  AfiCdIon 

Who  loved  a  girl  of  Gath." 

A  thousaml  thousand  years  have  gone,    , 

And  ieons  slill  shall  pass, 
Yet  shall  l^e  world  forever  sing 

Of  him  who  loved  a  lass— 
An  olden  song,  a  golden  song. 

And  singit  unaFraid: 
"There  was  a, youth,  once  on  a  time,  ,'  ' 

Who  dearly  loved  a  maid." 

Kendall  Banning  \ii7g- 

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From  "AiUDpM«nd  SteOt*  '  ' 

Doubt  you  to  whom  my  Muse  thi^sc  notes  injteodeth, 
Which  now  my  breast,  o'eccharged,  to  m^isic  tendeth? 

To  you!  lo  you!  ajl  soiiig  of  praise  is  due;     .  , 
Only  in  you  my  song  begins  and  endeth. 

Who  hath  th 

Who  keeps  t 

To  you!  tc 

Only  for  you 

Who  hath  th 

Who  woman 

To  youl  tc 

Only  by  you 

Who  hath  the  feet,  whose  step  all  sweetness  plantetb? 
Who  else,  tor  whom  Fame  worthy  trumpets  wantethP 

To  you!  to  you!  all  song  of  praise  is  due; 
Only  to  you  her  sceplre  Venus  granteth. 

Who  hath  the  breast,  whose  milk  doth  passions  nourish? 
Whose  grace  is  such,  that  when  it  chides  doth  cherish? 

To  you!  to  you!  all  song  of  prai^  is  due; 
Only  through  you  the  tree  of  life  doth  flourish. 

Who  hath  the  hand,  which  without  stroke  subdueth? 
Who  iong-dead  beauty  with  increaae  reneweth? 

To  you!  to  you!  all  song  of  praise  is  due; 
Only  at  you  all  envy  hopcle^  rueth. 


Silvia  .519 

Who  hath  tbe;b«iT,  whi«h. loosest  fastest  tiethP 
Who  makes  a  man  live  theE  glad  when  he  dieth? 

To  youl  to  you!  all  song  of  praise  is  due; 
Only  of  you  the  flatterer  never  Ucth. 





Doubt  you  to  whom  my  Muse  these  notes' intendeth, 
Which  now  my  breast,  o'etcharged,  to  muMc  lendeth? 

To  you!  to  youl  all  song  oi  praise  is  due; 
Only  in  you  my  song  begins  and  cndelh. 

Pkiiip  Sidney  [i5S*-is8fi] 

Theritb  SilvialeruSsiBg,      '    '"    ''   "  - '■ ' 

That  Silvia  is  exc^ng; 
She  excds  each  mortal  thing ,   1    <         i 

Upon  the.  dull  earth  dwelling:^ 
To  her  let  us  garlanda  bring. 

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'j^o  Poems  of  Love 

/     ■  CUPID  AND  CAMPASPti- 

'Ftam  "  Aleunder  and  Cunpupi  '*' 

Cupid  and  my  Campaspe  played 

At  cards  for  kisses;  Cupid  paid: 

He  stakes  his  quiver,  bow,  and  arrows, 

ttis  mother's  doves,  and  team  of  sparrow^;' 

Loses  them  loo;  then  down  he  throws  ' 

The  coral  of  his  lip,  the  rose  '  ' ' 

Growing  on's  check  (but  none  kriowshow); 

With  these,  the  crystal  of  his  brow, 

And  then  the  dimple  on  his  <fefn; 

All  these  did  my  Campaspe  win; 

And  last  he  set  her  both  his  eyes-  ■  ■ 

She  won,  and  Cupid  blind  did  rise; 

O  Love!  has  she  done  this  to  thee? 

What  shall,  alas!  become  of  me? 

JohnLyly  [i5S4?-i6o6l 


Fniiii  "  UidH  " 

Mv  Daphne's  hair  is  twisted  gold,  ' 
Bri^t  stars  apiece  her  eyes  do  hold. 
My  Daphne's  brow  enthrones  the  Graces, 
My  Daphne's  beauty  stains  all  faces,      , , 
On  Daplmc's  cheek  grow  rose  and  cherry. 
On  Daphne's  lip. a  sweeter  berry,      • 
Daphne's  snowy  hand  but  touched  docs  melt, 
And  then  no  heavenlier  warmth  is  felt^ 
My  Daphne's  voice  tunes  all  the  spheres,' 
My  Dapline's  music  charms  all  cars. 
Fond  am  I  thias  (o  sing  her  praise;  '         ' 
These  glories  now  are  turned  to  bays. 

JdhH  Lyly  [ijs4?-i6o6l 


,  FiOB  "Pcijaiada",. 

Fair  is  my  love  fcK' Aprit'sin  bcr  Eacflr 

Her  lovely  breasts  SefMRmber  daJms  his  part, 
And  lordly  Jidy  IB  her  s^atakite  friace, 
'  '  Bint  odd  t>eceMberdwdleth  in  her  heart; 


Blest  be  the  moaths  that  set  ray  thou^ts  on  fire 
Accurst  that  month  that  hindereth  my  desire. 

Like  Fhoebus'  fiie,  so  sparkle  both  her  eyes, 
As  air  perf  omed  with  amber  is  her  breath. 

Like  swelling  waves  her  lovely  rise, 
A8earth,ber.hqan.,cold,dateth  me lo  death: 

Aye  me,  poor  man,  that  on  the  earth  do  live, 

When  unkind  earth  death  and  despair  doth  give! 


Pram '"Hcuptwd^ 

Like  to  Diana  in  her  sum^iier  weed. 
Girt  with  a  crimson  robe  of  brightest  dye. 

Goes  fair  Samela; 
Whiter  than  be  the  flocks  that  straggling  feed, 
When  washed  by  Arethusa's  Fount  they  lie, 

Is  fair  Samela. 

As  fair  Aurora  in  her  morning-gray, 
Decked  with  the  ruddy  glister  of  her  love. 

Is  fair  Samela^  .    .  i 

Like  lovely  Thetis  oh  a  cahnM  day.  i 

Whenas  her  brightness  Neptune's  fancy  move. 

Shines  fair  Samela. 

Her  tresses  gold,  her  eym  like  glassy  streams, 
Her  teeth  are  pearl,  the  breasts  are  ivory 

Of  fair  Samela;  '  ''     ''■ 

Her  cheeks  like  rose  and  lily  yield  forth -glcabs; 
Her  biloH's  bright  arches  framed  of  ebony:'"  I 

Thus  fair  Samela  "■'       ' 


Poems  of  L6ve 

Passeth  fair  Venus  in  het  Iwavett  hue^    ■     ■    • 
And  Juno  in  the  straw  of  majesty. 

For  she's  Samela; 
Pallas,  in  wit,— all  three,  if  you  well  vSct», 
For  beauty,  wit,  and  matchless  dignity 

Yield  to  Samda. 

Robert  Gnati  (isMi^isail 


Diaphenia  like  the  ^Mreadih^  roses. 
That  in  thy  sweets  tiSl  sweets  encloses, 

Fair  sweet,  how  I  do  love  thee! 
I  do  love  thee  as  each  flower 
Loves  the  sun's  life-giving  power;  , 

.  For  dead,  thy  breath  to  life  might  move  n^e., 

Diaphenia  like  to  all  things  blessM, 
When  all  thy  praises  are  expressed. 

Dear  joy,  h«w  I  do  love  thee! 
As  the  Wrda  dolove  the  spiias,  ,      t 

Or  the  bees  their  careful  king:  .  \ 

Then  in  requite,  sweet  virgin,  bv&inel  ,     i 

fl«r)'  Cotutaiie  [15,^*613! 

MADRIGAL  '       ' 

My  love  in  her  attire  doth  show  her  wit,' 
-,.It  doth  so  well  become  her;  ;,-..:, 

For,  every  season  she  hath  dressings  fit,     ,     | 
For  Winter,  Spring,  and  Supuner.   . 


'  There  is  a  X^dy  Sweet  and  Kind  "     52J 

No  Iwauty  she  doth  miss 

When  all  her  robes  are  on: 
But  Beauty's  self  she  is 

When  all  her  robes  are  gone. 



I  SAW  fair  Cbtoris  malk  alone,  1 

When  [eatheted.  rain  came  swifUy  down,     ' 
As  Jove  dfscendiog  from  hid  Tomer  ' 

To  mutt  her  in  a  alver  stoweil:  1 

The  wantcm  soow  flew  to  ber  l^east, 
Like  pretty  birds  into  thoir  nest, 
But,  overcome  with  whiteness  there, 
For  grief  it  tliawed  into  a  tear:  ,  ^ 

TTience  falling  on  her  garment's  hem, 
To  decl;  her,  froze  into  a  gem. 


These  b  a  lady  sweet  and  kind, 
Was  never  face  so  pleased  my  mud; 
I  did  bat  see  ber  passing  by, 
And  yet  I  love  her  till  I  die. 

Her  gesture,  motion,  and  her  smiles, 
Her  wit,  her  voice  my  heart  beguiles, 
Beguiles  my  heart,  Tlcnow  not  why, 
And  yet  I  love  her  tfl!  I  dit.      ■  ■ 

Cupid  is  winged  ard  doth  range, 
Her  country  so  my  love  doth  change; 
But  change  she  earth,  or  change  she  sky, 
Yet  I  will  love  iKr  tiU  I  die. 

.   .  I    I     . .  Unknoant 


^24  Poems  of  Love 


There  is  a  garden  ia  her  face 

Where  roses  and  white  lilies  blow; 
A  heavenly  paradise  is  that  place, 
Wherein  all  pleasant  fruits  do  flow: 
There  cherries  grow  which  none  may  buy 
Till  "Cherry-ripe"  themadves  do  cry. 

Those  cherries  fairly  do  enclose 
Of  orient  pearl  a  double  tost, 
Which  when  her  lovely  laughter  shows. 
They  look  like  rose-buds  filled  with  snow; . 
Yet  them  nor  peer  nor  pnncei  can  btiy 
Till  "Cherry-ripe  "  themsdves  do  ay,     i 

Her  eyes  like  angels  watch  them  still; 

Her  brows  like  bended  bows  do  stand, 
Threatening  with  piercing  frowns  to  kill 
All  that  attempt  with  eye  or  hand 
Those  sacred  cherries  to  come  nigh, 
Till  "Cherry-ripe"  themselves  do  cry. 

Xkomas  Campion  |   ?    -ifiigj 


I  CAKE  not  for  these  ladies, 

That  must  be  wooed  and  ptsjtA: 

Give  me  kind  Anmriliia, 

The  waoton  countrymaid. 

Nature  art  disdaioetb. 

Her  beauty  is  her  own.  ^ 

Her  when  we  court  and  kias,  .  i 

She  cries,  Forsooth,  let  got 

But  when  we  come  where  comfort  is, 

She  never  will  say  No. 

If  I  love  Amarillis, 
She  gives  mc  fruit  and  flowere: 
But  if  we  love  these  ladies, 
We  must  give  golden  showers. 

p:hy  Google 

ElJzaheth  oS,  Bohemia  >  525 

Give  tbdn  goMr  th&t  sell  lows. 
Give  meitbe  Nut-brdwa  laae, , 
Viho,  yihet  i^  coMrt  and  Iws,    ,  . 
^K-otei,  (^nooth,  let  go: 
But  ^to  we  come  where  contfott  is, 
^te  DSvec  nil!  say  No. 

These  ladies  must  have  pillows, 

And  beds  by  strangers  wrought; 

Give  me  a  bower  of  willows, 

Of  AiflM  and  leaves  unbougbt. 

And  fresh  Amarillis, 

With  Inilk  and  honey  fed; 

Who,  when  we  court  and  kiss,' 

She  cries.  Forsooth,  let  go:  '  ' 

But  when  we  come  where  comfort  is,      ' 

She  never  will  say  No!  ' 

Thomas  Campum  [  ?  -1619] 


You  meaner  beauties  of  the  night,  '  i 

That  poorly  Satisfy  our  eyes        '  ' 

More  by  your  number  than  your  light,  i 

You  common  people  of  the  skies; 
What  are  you  when  the  moon  shall  rise?     t 

You  curious  chanters  of  the  wood, 

That  warble  forfh  Dame  Nature's  lays, 
Thinking  your  passions  understood    ■  -  ■' 

■    By  your  weak  accents;  what's  yourpialsfe'- 
When  Philomel  her  voice  shall  raise? 

■,        '1 
You  violets  that  fiiGt  apfiear, 

By  your  pure  purple  maatles  known 
Like  the  proid  virgins  of  the  year,  .,\ 

As  if  the  spring  were  all  yora  own)    ,   .      ; 

What  are  you  when  tin  rose  is  Mown? 


526  Poerrts  of  Lovi  ! 

So,  when  my  mistress  ahiU  be  seen 
In  form  and  beauty  of  her  nundj 

By  virtue  first,  then  choice^  a  QnMn. 
Tell  me,  if  «ha  were  not  <tesignM 
Th '  eclipse  and  glory  of  her  kind, 

Uary.WvUom  [i568-i6j|d 


ftom  "  A  CelebcalkD  of  Cladi'     ' 

See  the  Chariot  at  hand  here  of  Love, 

Wherein  my  Lady  rideth !  , 

Each  that  draws  is  a  swan  or  a  dove, 

And  well, the  car  Love  guideth. 
As  she  goes,  all  hearts  do  duly 

Unto  her  beauty; 
And,  enamored,  do  wish,  so  they  might 

But  enjoy  such  a  sight, 
That  they  still  were  to  nin  by  her  side. 
Through  swords,  through  seas,  whither  she  would  ridt 

Do  but  look  on  her  eyes,  they  do  light 

All  that  Love  'a  world  comprisetbl 
Do  but  look  oa.  her  hair,  it  is  br«ht    . 

AsLove'sstai  wlioiit  risethi 
Do  but  mark,  her  forehead's  smoother 

Than  words  thai  soothe  her! 
And  from  her  arched  biows  such  a  grixce 

Sheds  itself  through  the  face, 
As  alone  there  triumphs  to  the  life 
All  the  gain,  all  the  good,  ot  the  elennenls"  strife. 

Have  you  seen  hut  a  bright  lily  grow 

Before  rude  hands  have  touchy  it  ? 
Have  you  marked  but  the  fall  o'  the  saow . 

Before  the  soil  hath  smutched  it? 
Have  you  felt  Che  wool  of  beaver, 
Or  swan's  down  ever?  , 


A  WeloMae  ;  537 

Or  have  smeito'  ^e'txid  o'  ttw  briw? 

<  Orithe  o^  m  the  fiw? 
Or  have  tasted  the  bag  o'  the  betp  ' 
O  so  wlnte,0  30  toft,  O  so.8w«a  la  she! 

BmJonwn  [is73?-i637l 


In  petticoat  of  green. 
Her  hair  about  b«r  eyne, 
Phyllis  beneath  so  o«k 
Sat  mHking  her  fair  Akii: 
Among  that  sweefr-elreroed  inoistut«,  me  delight, 
Her  hand  seemed  milk  in  milk,  it  was«o  white. 

William  Drttnmond  [1585-1649] 


Wdamie,  wekome,  do  I  sing. 
Far  mort  vielajme  than  the  spring; 
H»  that  parteik  from  you  never 
Sbail  enjoy  a  spring  forever. 

He  that  to  the  voice  b  near, 

Breaking  from  your  ivory  pate. 
Need  not  walk  abroad  to  hear 
The  deh'ghtful  nightingale. 

He  that  hMks  still  on  your  eyes, 
Though  the  winter  have  begun 

To  benumb  our  arteries. 

Shall, not  want  the  summer's  sun. 

He  that  still  may  aee  youi  cheeks, 
Whero  aU  rarenesa  sliU  reposes, 

Is  a  Eool  if  e'n  be  seeks 
Other  lilies,  otiier.ioeeB. 

p:hy  Google 

"5^8  Poems  of  Love 

He' to  whom  your  soft  lip  jiidda,     ■<  ■' 
And  percerves  your  farealii  la  kissing, 

M  the  odors  of  the  fields 
Never,  never  shall  be  U 

He  that  question  would  anew 

What  fair  Eden  was  of  old. 
Lei  htm  lightLy  study  jypu, 

And  a  brief  of  that  behold. 

WelcoiiK,  weloome,  linn  1  smg,  ■ ' 

Far  more  wdOrme  tfcwt  (it  springs  ■ 
He  thai  partetitfrom  you  never, 
ShaU  atjiry  a  spring  fofeoer.  / 

'  -  WiUiam  Browe  [■d9t~i^4i^) 


For  her  gait,  W  she  be  JtvaJking ; 
Be  she  sitting,  I  desire  her 
For  het  state's  sake;  and  admire  her 
For  h^  wit  if  she  be  talking;         * 

Gait  and  state  and  wit  approve  her; 

For  which  all  and  each  I  lovb'her. 

Be  she  sullen,  I  commend  her 
For  a  modest.    Bcshemeriy,    ' 
For  a  kind  one  her  prrfei- 1. 
Brieily,  werything  dolh  l«id  her 

So  much  grace,  and  so  approve  her. 

That  (or  everything  I  lovu  her, 

William  Brnvne  Ii59t-t643f] 


Some  asked  mewhere  the  rubies  grew, 

And  nothing  1  did  say, 
But  with  my  finger  pointed  to 

The  Iip««f' Julia. 


■.  ToCynttiid:  .  519 

Some  asked i))(liS'peaals^cUd  growy  aad  where: 

Ibai  epehe  I  to  my  girt, 
To  part. berlipt,  and  sbaned  tbero  there 

The  quarrelets  of  pearl. 

Robert  Rerrick  [1191-1674] 


WitENAS  in  silks  my  Julia  goes, 
Then,  ihep,  methinks,  how  sweetly  flows 
The  liquefaftioD  of  her  clothes! 
Nexl,  when  I  caat  mine  eyes  and  see 
Tliat.biavc  vibmdon  each  way  free, 
— O  how  that  glittering  taketb  me! 

Robert  llerrick  [iS9'- 


Do  not  QOnceal  those  radiant  eyes, 
The  starlight  of  serenest  skies; 
Lest,  wanting  of  their  heavenly  light,  ', 
They  tucn  to  chaos'  endless  night! 

Do  nOC  conceal  those  tenses  fair. 
The  silken  soBtes  of  thy  Suited  hair; 
Lest,  finding  neither  gfM  nor  oce, 
The  curious  silk'wonn  work  no  more. 

Do  not  conceal  those  breasts  of  thine. 
More  snow-white  than  the  Apenninc; 
Le^,  if  these  be  like  cold  and  frost, 
The  lily  be  for  ever  lost.  ' 

Do  not  conceal  that  fragrdnt  sceSt, 
Thy  breath,  whi<4  to  all  flowers  hath  tent 
Perfumes;  lest,  if  being  supprasKd; 
No  spioes  grow  in  all  the  rest. 

p:hy  Google 

, j^o  Poems  of'  Love 

"DonoC  conceal  tbylieawpiljrvtriceH        •'. 
Which  makes  the  bearta  of  gads  fejoida; 
Lest,  itiuEJcheftrtDgnosuditbiDg,  I        .\ 
The  nightingale  forget  to-eing.        <       l 

Do  not  conceal,  nor  yet  eclipse. 
Thy  pearly  teeth  with  coral  lips; 
Lest  that  the  seas  cease  to  bring  forth 
Gems  which  from  thee  have  ail  tbeir  worth. 

Do  not  conceal  no  beauty,  grace, 
'That's  either  in  thy  mind  or  fadi;        ' 
Lest  virtae  overcome  by  vice 
Make  men  believe  no  Paradise: 

FnuMif  XymiMM' (ts87-i64i] 


Ask  me  no  more  where  Jove  bestows. 
When  June  is  past,  the  fading  rose;  , 
For  in  your  beauty's  orient  deep 
These  flowers,  as  in  their  causes,  sleep. 

Ask  me  no  more  whither  doth  haste    ■ 
The  ni^tingalc  whon  May  is  pasti 
For  in  your  sweet  dividing  throat 
Sh©  winters  and  keeps  warm  hei  note. 

Ask  me  no  more  where  those  stars  'ligt^t 
That  downwards  fall  in  dead  of  night; 
For  in  your  eyes  ihcy  sit,  and  there      ^ 
Fiild  become  as  in  their  sphere. 

Ask  me  no  more  if  east  or  west 
The  F^oenix  builds  her  spicy  nest?       ' 
'   For  unto  you  at  last  E3ie 'flies;  I 

And  in  ymlr  fragrant  boscHn  dies. 

.  Thmas-Cattm  ([n8?-i6}9?1 

p  hyGoogle 

I  Castara  ';  i^i 

And  vheresoe'er  my  iuicy  wuld  bfsjn,  > 
Still  her  perfection  lets  religiqii  in.      .  / 

A  naiTOW  compass!  and  yet  there  - 
Dwelt  all  theft's  good,  and  all  that's  fair! 
Give  rae  but  what  this  ribbon  bound, 
Take  all  the  t^t  the  sun  goes  round! 

Sdi^und  WaUer  (.606- 

CASTARA      , ,      . 

LiKS  the  Violet,  wind)  .aldne 

Prospers  in  some  happy,  shade. 
My  Caslara  lives  rinknowni  , . 

To  no  looser  eye  betrayed: 
■  For  She'sW  herefelf  untrue 
Who  delists  i'  the  public  view. 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  of  Love 

Such  is  her  beauty  as  no  arts 
Have  eniicbed  With  boraowed  grace. 

Her  high  birth  no  pride  imparts, 
For  she  blushes  in  her  place. 

Folly  boasts  a  glorious  blood;    '  ' 
She  is  noblest,  being  good. 

Cautious,  she  knew  never  yet 

What  a  wanton  courtship  meuit; 
Nor  speaks  loud  to  boaat  her  Wit, 
In  her  silence,  eloquent. 

Of  herself  survey  she  takes, 
But  'tween  men  no  diflerenoe  mi 

She  obeys  with  speedy  will 

Her  grave  parents'  wise  commands; 
And  so  innocent,  that  ill- 
■  She  nor  acta,  dot  understands. 

Women's  feet  run  slill  astray    ', 
If  to  ill  they  know  the  way. 

She  satis  by  that  rock,  the  court, 

She  holds  that  day's  pleasure  best 
Where  sin  waits  not  on  deBght; 
Without  mask,  or  ball,  or  feast, 
Sweetly  spends  a  winter's  night. 

O'er  that  darkness  whence  is  thrust 
Prayer  and  sleep,  oft  governs  lust. 

She  her  throne  makes  reason  climb, 

While  wild  passions  cAptive  lie; 
And,  tach.  aTtiole  of  Lim£, 
Her  pure  thoughts  to  beftven  fly; ' 
All  bcTiwws  religious  be,. 
■  And  she  vows  herloye  to  me. 

leUftm^^inftoM  [160S-1 

p:hy  Google 




Araiuntha,  swcel  and  fair. 
Ah,  braid  no  more  ihal  shining  hair! 
As  my  curious  hand  or  eye 
Hovering  round  thee,  let  it  fly. 

Let  it  fly  as  unccmfined 
As  its  cahn  ravisfaer  llM  wiftd, 
Who  hath  left  his  dftrtbig;  ib'  east. 
To  wanton  in  that  spicy  nest. 

Every  tress  must  be  confessed; 
But  neatly  tanked  at  the  best;  , 

Like  a  clew  of  golden  thread  | 

Most  excellently  ravell&i. 

Do  nM,  tken,  -feted  up  that  light 
In  ribbons,  and  o'et-doud )»  wgfat. 
Like  die  stm  la's  early  ny;' 
But  shake  your  head  and  scatter  day. 

Richard  Lareiace  [i«ig-i6s8l 

Chloe's  a  N)miph  in  flowery  groves, 

A  Keteid  in  the  streams; 
Saint-Kke  she  in  t?te  temple  moves, 

A  woman  in  my  dreams. 

Love  steals  artillery  from  her  eyes, 
The  Graces  poi^t  her  charms; 

Orpheus  is  rivalled  '»  ^'^  voice, 
And  Venus  in  bqr  arn^. 

Never' so  happily  in  cWfe 

■  DM  heaven  and  earth  cambine; 
And  yet  'tfe  flesh  and  Hood  alone 
Tliat  makes  her  so  divihe. 

Thoinas  D'Urfiy  [i6s3-i 

p:hy  Google 

Poems  :of  Lioy.e 


My  Peggy  is  a  young  thing, 
Just  entered  in  her  teens, 
Fair  as  the  day,  and  sweet  as  ^^ay, 
Fair  as  the  day,  and  always  gay; 

My  Peggy  is  a  young  thing. 

And  I'm  na  very  auld,         i 

Yet'weel  I  like  to  meet  het,  at 

The  wauking  o'  the  ifmld.   ■ 


To  a'  the.laye  I'm  catild;    i 

But  the. gars  a. my  ^Mnts  glo^ 

Atntaukingo'thefaidd.     ] 

My  Peggy  smiles  sae  kindly 
Whene'er  I  whisper  love, 
That  I  look  doun  on  a'  the  toun. 
That  I  look  doun  upon  i  axniti: 

My  Peggy. smiles  saekindjy,  , 

It  makes  me  blithe  apd  bauld, 
And  ii&ethiflg  gi'es  me  sic  jdielight 
As  wEuUlpng.o'  the  fai^d^ 

My  Peggy  sings  sae  saftly. 

When  on  my  Rj'tw  I  play;  ' 

By  a'  the  rest  it  is  coiifcssed," 
By  a'  Ihc  rest  that  she  sings  best:    ' 

My  Peggy  sings  sae'SSjEUy,  / 
I     And  is  hersangs  are|av|d, 
Wi'  innocence  the  wale  o'sq^se, 
At  wauking  o'  ihc  fauldj 
;  '.".  ,,  \  Allan  Ramsay  [1686-17581 

p:h».  Google 

"TeJL'Mei  My  Heart"  ,^gj 

FtPm  "  Acb  wd  SaUtw ' ' 

O  KDDDIER  than  the  cheny! 
O  sweeter  than  the  benyl 

0  nymph  more  bright 

Than  moonshine  nijsht, 
Like  kidlings  blithe  and  merryl 
Ripe  as  the  melting  luster; 

Yet  hard  to  tame  '  ' 

As  raging  flame, 
And  fierce  as  storms  that  blusterl ' 


When  Delia  on  flle  plain  appears,      ' 
Awed  by  a  thousand  tender  fears 
I  TMrald  approach,  butduenot  raovfe: 
Tell  me,  my  heart,  if  tWe  be  love? 

Whene'er  she  speaks,  my  ravished  ear 
No  other  voice  than  here  can  hear, 
No  other  wit  but  here  approve; 
Tell  me,  my  heart,  if  this  be  love? 


53^  Poems  of  Love 


Before  tke  uichin  well  could  go, , . 
She  stole  the  whiteness  of  the  gdow; 
And  more,  that  whiteness  to  adorn, 
She  stole  the  blushes  of  the  mom;  , 
Stole  all  the  sweetness  eliwr  sheds 
On  primrose  buds  and  violet  beds. 

StUl  to  reveal  her  artful  wiles ,  :  ,/ 
She  stole  the  Graces'  silken  smiles; 

She  stole  Aurora's  balmy  breath; 
And  pilfered  orient  pearl  for  teeth; 
'  The  cherry,  dipped  in  morning  dew,'  ■' 
Gave  moisture  to  her  life,  and  hue.'  ' 

These  were  her  in&int  ap«la,  a  slare;i 
And  she,  in  time,  still  pilfered  nioiot- 
At  twelve,  she  stole  from  Cyprus'  queen 
Her  air  and  love-commanding  mien; 
Stole  Juno's  dignity;  and  stole 
From  Pallas  sense  to  charm  the  soul. 

ApoUo'a  wit  was  nert  her  prey; 
Her  next,  th»heam  that  lights  the  diV; 
She  sang; — mmeeA,  tfae'Sinnts  hoard. 
And  to  asseirt  tbdr  voioe  appeared. 
She  played; — the  Muses  from  their  1)1)1, 
Wondered  who  thus  had  stole  iheir  skill. 

Great  Jove  approved  her  crinics  and  *rt; 
And,  t'other  day,  she  stole  my  heart! 
If  lovers,  Cupid,  are  thy  care, 
Eaert  thy  Vengeance  on  thh  Fair: 
To  trial' bring  her  Btoleri  chartns, 
And  let  her  prison  be  my  armsl     ' 

'    Charla  Wyndham\n to~) 


■  Song  537 


If  rightly  tuoeful  bards  decide, 
If  it  be  Bled  in  Love's  deCTces, 

That  Beauty  ow^t  not  to  be  irietf 
But  by  iVs  native  power  to  please,' 

Then  tell  me,  youths  and  lovers,  tell— 

What  fair  can  Amoret  excel? 

Behold  that  bright  unsullied  smile, 
And  wisdom  speaking  in  her  mien; 

Yel — ahe  so  artless  all  the  while. 
So  lillle  studious  lo  be  seen — 

We  naught  but  instant  gladness  know, 

Nor  think, to  whom  the  gift  we  ow& 

But  neither  music,  nor  the  powers 
Of  youth  and  mirth  arid  froKc  cheer. 

Add  half  the  sunshme  (o  the  houis, 
O  make  life's  prospect  h&lf  so  d^r, 

As  memory  brings  it  to  the  eyC  ' 

From  scene?  where  Amoret  was  by. 

This,  sure^  is  Beauty's  happiest  part; 

This  gives  the  niost  unbounded  sway; 
'  Tiaia  shall  emdiant  the  subject  heart 

When  rose  and  lily  fade  away; 
And  she  be  stUl,  in  spite  of  "nme, 
Sweet  Amoret,  hi  all  her  prime- 

Mark  Akmside  [1711-1 


TWb1»»1»b  4loi}e  let  otheraprizf, 
TheJeatures  of  tbe  Jair:  ; 

I  look  for  spitit  in  her  eyes, 
And  meaning  in  ber  aitt 


538  Poems  of  Love 

A  damask  cheek,  an  ivory  arm, 

Shall  ne'er  my  wishes  win: 
Give  me  an  animated  form, 

That  speaks  a  mind  within. 

A  face  where  awful  honor  shines, 
Where  dense  and  sweetness  move:, 

And  angel  innocence  lefinA 
The  tenderness  of  love. 

These  are  the  soul  of  beauty's  frame; 

Without  whose  vital  aid 
Unfinished  all  her  features  seem. 

And  all  her  roses  dead. 

But  ah!  where  both  their  charms  unite. 

How  perfect  is  the  view, 
With  every  image  of  delight, 

With  graces  ever  new: 

Of  power  to  charm  the  greatest  woe. 

The  wildest  rage  contn^ 
DiBusing  mildness  o'er  the  brow. 

And  rapture  through  the  souL      . 

Their  power  but  faintly  to  eipress 

All  language  must  despair; 
But  go,  behold  Arpasia's  face, 

And  read  it  perfect  there. 

Mark  Akensiit  [1731- 

The  silver  moon's  enamored  beam 

p:hy  Google 

•>       ■   Song'     ■  riJ39 

UpoO  the  green  the  vHginsW^t,    .< 

-Ib  f(H7'  diaplets  gay,         .1 
Till  mom  unbar  her  golden  gate, 

And  give  tlie  [»onii^  May. 
Meliunk$  I  hear .  the  maids  declare,  ,  / 

The  promised  May,  when  seep,    ■ 
Not  half  so  fri^grast,  half  so,iair,    ,  , 

4s  Kate  of,  ^berdeon. 

Strike  up  the  labor's  boldest  notesj 

We'll  rouse  the  nodding  grove; 
The  nested  birds  shall  raise  their  throats, 

And  hail  the  maid  of  love; 
And  see— the  matin  lart  mistakes, 

He  quits  the  .tufted  gjceen: 
Fond  bird!  'tis  npt  the  morning  brqaks,— 

lls.Kate  of  Aberdeen.  ,, , 

Head,  ' 

;.         ■■  * 

reTl  lead, 
is  try. 


Who  has  robbed  tliC  ocean  cave,    '    '  ' 

To  tinge  thy  lips  with'coral  hue?  ' 
Who  from  India's  distaiit  waVe' 

For  thee  those  pearly  treasures  drtW? 
Who  froffi  yonder  orient  sky  ' ' 
Stole  the  morning  of  thine  eye?  ' 

A  tficuaahd  cbbnns,  thy  form  to  deck, 
Fronv sea,  and  earth,  aodajf  a«  torn; 

RoeesUoom  upon  thy  ch^, ;  : 
On  thy  breath  their  fragrance  borne. 



Poems  of  Love 

Guard  thy  bosom  from  the  d>Yv  '  j 
Lest  thy  snows  should  melt  Awaijf. 

But  one  charm  remains  behind,         ■' 

Which  mute  earth  can  ne'er  hnpart;  ■'' 

Nor  in  ocean  wilt  thou  find, 

Nor  in  the  circling  air,  a  heart.  -■■ 

Fairest!  wouldst  thou  perfect  be, 

Take,  oh,  take  that  heart  frpni  me. 

Jakn  5/iaio  [isS9-i6isl 

The  feathered  people  you  might  see, 
Perched  all  around  on  every  tree, 
In  notes  of  sweetrat  melody  . 

They  ^il  tlje  charming  Chloe;      ,' ' " 
Till,  painting  gay  the  eastern  skies,     ,, 
The  glprious  sun  began  to  rise, 
Out-rivalled  by  the  radiant  i;yes 
Of  yquthful,  charming  CUoe, 
Lovely  was  she  by  the  dawn. 
Youthful  Ghloc,  duwmingjC&lob, 
■   '    Tripping  o'er  the  peirly  lawn,  . 
The  youthful,  channing  Chtoe.  , 
■  RttbtnBuma  \ns' 


The  Ldver's  Gh(l>(ce 

As  I  was  walking  up  the  street,  '■ ' 


You,  Damon,  covet  to  possess 
The  nymph  that  sparkles  in  her  drc^; 
Would  rustling  silks  and  hoops  invade, ,, ; 
And  clasp  an  aimful  «f  brocade. 

Soch  tBtse  the  price  of  yopur  delight 
Who  iMitcAad^  haih  their  red  and  ffklte,. 
And,  p£nte-Uke,  burprise  your  heart 
With  ctJors  of  adulterate  arL 

p:hy  Google 

514.1  Poems  ■  of  Lbve   I 

Me,  Damon,  me  the  maid  enchants 

■   -W^QSe  clieeks  thehand  otnatuxe.pafnte^ 
A  modest  blush  adorns  her  face, 
Her  ail  an  unafiocted  grace.  ■    \  ■  t. 

No  art  she  knows,  or  seeks  to  know; 
No  charm  to  wealthy  pride  will  owe;        j 
No  gems,  no  gold  she  Jieeds  to  wear; 
She  shines  intrinsically  fair. 

Thomas  Bedingfi^y  ?  -ifiijl 


Mv  day  and  night  are  En  my  la'dy'i  hant!; ';'_ 
I  have  no  other  sunrise  than  her  sight;    ' 

For  me  her  favor  glorifies  the  land; 
Her  anger  darkens  all  the  cheerful  light,' 
Her  face  is  fairer  than  the  hawthorn  white, 

When  all  a-flower  in  May  the  hedgero^ts  stand; 
•  Wiile  *e  YS  kind,  1  know  of  no  affdgUrt; ' 

My  day  and  night  arein'mylady'S'ttend'. '  '^■ 

All  heaven  in  ber  gloiioDs  eyes  is  spanned; 

Her  smile  is  softer  than  the  fummer's  night, 
Gladder  than  daybreak  on  the  faery  st^^d; 

I  have  no. other  subcise  than- ber ,^tit. 

Her  silver  speech  is  like  the  singing  flight 
Of  runnels  rippling  o'er  the  jewelled  sand; 

Her  kiss  a  dream  of  delicate  delight; 
For  me  her  favor  glorifies  the  land. 

What  if  the  Winter  chase  the  Summer  bland ! 

The  gold  sun  in  her  hair  burns  ever  briglit. 
If  she  be  sad,  straightway  all  joy  is  banned; 

Her  anger  darkens  all  the  cheerful  h'ght.  ' 

Come  weal  or  woe,  I  am  my  lady's  knight 
And  in  her  service  every  ill  withstand; 

Love  is  my  Lord  in  all  the  wnrld's  do^^ 
And  holdeth  m'the  hoDowof  his  band 

My  day  and  TL^f . 


'  My  LoveShe^s  But  a'  Lassie  Yet"    543- 


.  My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet,    /        , 
A  lightsome  lovdy  lassie  yet; 

It  scarce  wad  do 

To  sit  an'  woo 
Down  hy  the  stream  ,sae  gla^y  yet. 

But  there's  a  braw  tinje  coming  yet. 
When  we  may  gang  a-roaming  yet; 


TheirQ,  toimqelmylassiey^t/  i- 

Up  in  yoD  glen  sae  grassy  yet; 

■      Foralllsce  '     ■■  '■' 

Ate  naught  to  rae, 
Save  hefthafS  but  a  lassie  yet.         ' 
Jamer  Hog^'ln 


Poems  pf  Love 


The  suii  has  gane  down  o'er  the  lofty  BentortiOlid    " '  ' 
And  left  the  red  clouds  to  [)reside  o'er  the  scene, 

While  laoely  I  stray,  in  the  calm  simmer  gloamin', 
To  muse  on  sweet  Jessie,  the  Flower  o'  Dunblane. 

How  sweet  is  the  brier,  wi'  its  saft  fauldin'  blosEu>m, 

And  sweet  is  the  birk,  wi'  its  mantle  o'  green; 
Yet  sweeter  and  fairer,  and  dear  to  this  bosom, 

Is  lovely  young  Jessie,  the  Flower  o'  Dunblane- 
She's  modest  as  ony,  and  blithe  as  she's  bonnie; 

For  guileless  simplicity  marks  her  its  ain ; 
And  far  be  the  villain,  divested  of  feeling, 

Wha'd  blight  in  its  bloom  the  sweet  Flower  o'  Dunblane 

Sing  an,  thou  sweet  mavis,  thy  hymn  to  the  e'en ing! ' 
Thou'rt  dear  to  the  echoes  of  Calderwood  glen; 

Sae  dear  to  this  bosom,  sae  artless  and  winning, 
Is  channing  young  Jessie,  the  Flower  o'  Dunblane 

How  lost  were  r 

The  sports  o' 
I  ne'er  saw  a  ny 

Till  oharmed  '  nblane. 

Though  mine 

Amidst  its 
And  reckon  a 

If  wanting 


Makgaret's  beauteous-^Greqan  arts 
Ne'er  drew  forfn  completer, 

Yet  why.  in  my  hearts  of  boarts,  . 
Hold  I  Dora's  sweeter? 


'It  Is  Not  Beftuty   I  Demand"     547 


It  is  not  Beauty  I  demand, 
A  crystal  brow,  the  moon's  despair, 

Nor  the  saow's  da.ughter,  a  white  hand, , 
Nor  mermaid's  yellow  pride  oE  hair: 

Tell  me  not  of  your  stany  eyes. 
Your  lips  that  seem  on  roses  fed, 

Your  breasts,  where  Cupid  tumbling  lies 
Nor  sleeps  tor  kissing  of  his  bed:— 

A  bloomy  pair  of  Tcrmeit  cheeks 
Like  Hebe's  in  her  ruddiest  hours, 

A  breath  that  softer  music  ^>eaks 
Than  summer  winds  a-wooing  flowej», — 

These  are  but  gauds;  nay,  what  are  Kps? 

Coral  beneath  the  ocean^stream, 
Whoae  brink  when  your  adventurer  sips 

Full  oft  he  perisheth  on  them. 

And  what  are  ch«dcs  but  ensigns  <rft' 
That  wave  hot  youth  to  fields  of  blotod? 

Did  Helen's  breast,  though  ne'er  96  soft. 
Do  Greece  or  Ilium  any  good? 

Eyes  can  with  bakful  ardor  bum; 

PiMSon  can  breathe,  that  erst  perfumed; 
There's  many  a  white  hand  holds  an  urn 

With  lovers'  hearts  to  dust  consumed. 

For  crystal  brows — there's  naught  wftbfn; 

They  are  but  empty  cells'  for  pride; 
He  who  the  Siren's  hair  would  win 

p:hy  Google 

c^iS  Poems  of  Love 

One  in  whose  gentle  bosom  I 

Ccruld  -pour  ray  secret  heart  of  woes. 

Like  the  care-burthen ed  honey-fly 
That  hides  his  murmurs  in  the  rose,- 

My  earthly  Comforter!  whose  love 

So  indefeasible  might  be 
That,  when  my  spirit  won  above, 

Hers  could  not  stay,  for  sympathy. 

Gtorge  Darley  [17918-18461 



She  is  not  fair  to  outward  view 

As  many  maidens  be, 
Her  loveliness  I  never  knew 

Until  she  smiled  on  me; 
Oh!  then  I  saw  her  eye  was  bright, 
A  well  of  love,  a  spring  of  light. 

But  now  her  looks  ace  coy  and  cold. 

To  mine  they  ne'er  reply, 
And  yet  I  cease  not  to  befaold 

The  kive-light  in  her  eye: 
Her  very  frowns  are  fairer  far  ; 

Than  smiles  of  other  maidens  are. 

HarOty  CekrUge  Uigd-iiw] 


A  VIOLET  in  her  lovely  hair, 
A  rose  upon  her  boaom  [airl 

But  O,  her  eyes 
A  lovelier  violet  disclose. 
And  her  ripe  lips  the  sweetest  rose 

That's  'Death  the  skies. 

A  lute  beneath  her  graceful  hand 
Bretithes  music  forth  at  her  cotmnaDd; 


Eileen  Aroon 

But  still  her  tongue 
Far  richer  music  calls  to  birth 
Than  all  the  minstrel  power  on  earth 

Can  give  to  song. 

And  thus  she  moves  in  tender  light. 
The  purest  ray,  where  all  is  bright, 

Serene,  and  sweet; 
And  sheds  a  graceful  influence  round, 
That  hallows  e'eo  the  very  ground 

Beneath  her  feet! 

Charles  Swain  [iSoi- 


Eileen  Aroon! 

Is  it  the  laughing  eye, 

Eileen  Aroon! 
Is  it  the  timid  sigh, 

Eileen  Aroon! 
Is  it  the  tender  lone. 
Soft  as  the  stringed  harp's  moan? 
O,  it  is  tjuth  alone, — 

Eileen  Aroon! 

When  like  the  rising  day, 

Eilem  Aroon! 
Love  sends  his  early  ray, 

Eileen  Aroon! 

What  makes  his  dawning  glow. 
Changeless  lhro\q!h  joy  or  woe? 
Only  the  constant  know;^ 
Eileen  Aroon! 

p:hy  Google 

55©  Poems  of  Love 

I  know  a  valley  fair, 

Eileen  Aroon! 
I  knew  a  cottage  there, 

Eileen  AnmnS 
Far  in  that  valley's  shade 
1  knew  a  gentle  maid, 
Flower  of  a  hazel  glade, — 

Eileen  Aroon! 

Who  in  the  song  so  sweet? 

Eileea  A  toon  I 
Who  in  the  dance  so  fleet? 

Eileen  Aroon  1 
Dear  were  her  charms  to  m^ 
Dearer  her  laughter  free. 
Dearest  her  constancy, — 

Eileen  Aroon  1 

Were  Ae  do  longer  true, 
Eileen  Aroon  I 
Wbat  should  her  lorei  do? 

Eileen  Aroon  1 
Fly  with  bb  -braken  chain 
Far  o  'er  the  sounding  main, 
Never  to  love  again, — 

Eileen  Aroon  1 
Youth  must  with  time  decay, 

Eileen  Aroon! 
Beauty  must  fade  away, 
Eileen  Aroon! 
Castles  are  sacked  in' war. 
Chieftains  are  scattered  far, 
Truth  is  a  li^d  star,— 
^eoii  Aroon  t 

Go-aid  Cri^M  (1803-1840] 
Maxweltoh  braes  are  bonnie 

Where  early  fa's  the  dew, 

And  it's  there  that  Annie  Laurie 

Gie'd  me  her  promise  true — 


To   Helen  rri 

Gie'd  me  her  promise  true, 

Which  ne  'er  foigot  will  be; 
And  Cor  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lay  me  doun  and  dee. 

Hei  blow  is  like  the  snaw-drift; 

Her  throat  is  lilce  tlje  swan; 
Her  face  it  is  ibe  fairest 

That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on — 
That  e  'er  the  sun  shone  on — 

And  dark  blue  is  her  ee; 
And  foT  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lay  me  doun  and  dee. 
Lilcc  dew  on  the  gowan  lying 

Is  the  fa'  o'  her  fairy  feet; 
And  like  the  winds  in  siunmer  sighing, 

Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet — 
Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet — 

And  she's  a'  the  world  to  me; 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lay  me  doun  and  dee. 

William  Douglas  [i6Ti?-tJ48l 


H£tEN,  thy  beauty  is  to  me 

Like  those  Nioean  barks  of  yore, 
That  gently,  o'er  a  perfumed  sea. 

The  weary,  waywom  wanderer  bore 

To  his  own  native  shore. 

On  desperate  seas  long  wont  to  roam. 
Thy  hyacinth  hair,  thy  classic  face, 

Tby  Naiad  aiis,  have  brought  me  home        j 
To  the  glory  that  was  Greece  .     . 
And  the  grandeur  thu  wag  Rcone. 

Lo!  in  yon  brilliant  window-niche  ' 

How  slatue-like  I  see  thee  stand, 
The  agate  lamp  within  thy  hand! 

Ah,  Psyche,  from  the  regions  which 

Are  Holy  Land ! 

Edgar  Allan  Pot  [180Q-1S49I 


5jJt  Poems  of  Love 


From  •■  Hwid  " 

A  VOICE  by  the  ..^•dar  tree, 

In  the  meadow  under  the  Hall! 

She  is  singing  an  air  that  is  known  to  mc, 

A  passionate  ballad  gallant  and  gay, 

A  martial  song  like  a  trumpet's  call! 

Singing  alone  in  the  morning  of  liEe, 

In  the  happy  morning  of  life  and  of  May, 

Singing  of  men  that  in  battle  array, 

Ready  in  heart  and  ready  in  hand. 

March  with  banner  and  bugle  and  fife 

To  ihe  death,  for  their  native  land. 

Maud  with  her  exqui^tc  face. 
'  And  wild  voice  pealing  up  to  the  sunnv  sky. 
And  feet  like  sunny  gems  on  an  English  green, 
Maud  in  the  light  of  her  youth  and  faer  grace. 
Singing  of  Death,  and  of  Honor  tbat  cannot  die. 
Till  I  well  could  weep  for  a  time  so  sordid  and  mean 
And  myself  so  languid  and  base. 

Silence,  beautiful  voice! 

Be  still,  for  you  only  trouble  the  mind 

With  a  joy  in  which  I  cannot  rejoice, 

A  glory  1  shall  not  find. 

Still!    I  will  hear  you  no  more, 

For  your  sweetness  hardly  leaves  me  a  choice 

But  to  move  to  the  meadow  and  fall  before 

Her  feel  on  the  meadow  grass,  and  adore. 

Not  her,  who  is  neither  courtly  nor  kind, 

Not  her,  not  her,  but  a  voice. 

Atjred  Tennyson  itSoo~iS9i| 


The  Henchman  553 


Nav  but  you,  who  do  not  love  her, 

Is  she  not  pure  gold,  my  mistress? 
Hold*  earth  aught— speat  truth-above  he^? 

Aught  like  this  tress,  ace,  and  this  tress, 
And  this  last  fairest  tress  of  all, 
So  fair,  see,  ere  I  lat  it  (all? 

Because  you  spend  your  lives  in  praising; 

To  praise,  you  search  the  wide  world  over: 
Then  why  not  witness,  calmly  gazing. 

If  earth  holds  aught— speak  truth— above  her? 
Above  this  tress,  and  this,  I  touch 
But  cajinot  praise,  I  love  so  much! 

Robert  Bromtin£  11811-1889! 

My  lady  walks  her  morning  round. 
My  lady's  page  her  fleet  greyhound, 
My  lady's  hair  the  fond  winds  stir, 
And  all  the  birds  make  songs  for  her. 

Her  thrushes  sing  in  Rathbum  bowers, 
And  Rathburn  side  is  gay  with  flowers; 
But  ne'er  like  hers,  in  flower  or  bird. 
Was  beauty  seen  or  music  heard. 

The  distance  of  the  stars  is  hers; 
The  least  of  all  her  worshipers. 
The  dust  beneath  her  damty  heel, 
Site  knows  not  that  I  see  or  feel. 

Oh,  proud  and  calm! — she  cannot  know 
WliCTe'er  she  goes  with  her  I  go;  ■ 
Oh,  cold  and  fair!— she  cannot  guess 
I  kneel  to  share  her  hound 's  caress! 

Gay  knights  beside  her  hunt  and  hawk, 
I  rob  their  ears  of  her  sweet  talk; 

p  hyGoogle 

Poems  of  'Lovq 

Her  suitors  come  from  cast  and  west, 
I  steal  her  smiles  from  every  guest. 

Unheard  of  her,  in  loving  words, 

I  greet  her  with  the  song  of  birds; 

I  reach  her  with  her  green-armed  bowetB,   ■ 

I  kiss  her  with  the  lips  of  flowers. 

The  hound  and  I  are  on  her  trail, 
The  wind  and  I  uplift  her  veil; 
As  if  the  calm,  cold  moon  she  were, 
And  I  the  tide,  I  follow  her. 

As  unrebuked  as  they,  I  share 

The  license  of  the  sun  and  air,      ' 

And  in  a  common  homage  hide    '       '     '  '  i 

My  worship  from  her  scorn  and  pride. 

World-wide  apart,  and  yet  so  near, 
I  breathe  her  charmed  atmosphere. 
Wherein  to  her  my  sendee  brings 
The  reverence  due  to  holy  thiiisi. 

Her  maiden  pride,  het  haughty  name, 
My  dumb  devotion  shall  not  shame; 
The  love  that  no  return  doth  crave. 
To  knightly  levels  lifts  the  slave. 

No  lance  have  I,  in  joust  or  fight,        ' 
To  splinter  i  a  my  lady's  sight; 
But,  at  her  feet,  how  blest  were  I 
For  any  need  of  hers  to  die! 

John  Grcenteaf  Wkillier^  [1S07-1891) 


Oh,  lovely  Mary  Donnelly,  it's  you  I  love  the  beat! 

If  fifty  girls  were  round  you  I'd  hardly  see  the  rest. 

Be  what  it  may  the  time  of  day,  the  place  be  where  it  will. 

Sweet  looks  of  Mary  Donnelly,  they  bloom  iteltrt  me  stilL 


Lovely  Mary   Donnelly  555 

Her  eyes  like  ntountain  water  that's  &iwiag  od  a  rock, 
How  clear  they  are,  how  dark  they  ate!  they  give  me  many^ 
a  shock.  i 

Red  rowans  warm  in  sunshine  and  wetted  with  a  shower. 
Could  iie'er  express  the  charming,  lip  that  has  me  in  itn 


p:hy  Google 

5j6  Poems  of  Love  - 

O  lovely  Mary  Donnelly,  your  beauty's  my  diEtrees:    • 
It's  far  too  beauteous  to  be  mine,  but  I'tl  never  wish  it  les». 
The  proudest  place  would  fit  your  face,  and  I  am  poor  and 

But  blessings  be  about  yoli,  dear.  Wherever  you  Tuay  go! 

WiUiam  AUingkam  IiSm-iBSq] 


Umuek  yonder  beech-tree  single  on  the  green-ewaid, 

Couched  with  her  arms  behind  her  golden  head. 
Knees  and  tresses  folded  to  slip  and  rjpple  idly, 

Lies  my  young  love  sleeping  in  the  diade. 
Had  I  the  heart  to  slide  an  arm  beneath  her, 

Press  her  parting  lips  as  her  waist  I  gBther  slonr. 
Waking  in  amazement  she  could  not  but  embrace  me: 

Then  would  she  hold  me  and  never  let  mc  go? 

Shy  as  the  squirrel  and  wayward  as  tb«  swallow. 

Swift  as  the  swallow  along  the  river's  light  ' 
Cirdeiing  the  surface  to  meet  his  mirioreil  wioglets. 

Fleeter  she  seems  in  her  stay  than  in  her  flight. 
Shy  as  the  squirrel  that  leaps  among  the  pine-lops, 

Wayward  as  the  swallow  overhead  at  set  of  sun, 
She  whom  I  love  is  hard  to  catch  and  conquer, 

Hard,  but  O  the  glory  of  the  winning  were  she  won! 

When  her  mother  tends  her  before  the  lai^hing  ainor, 

Tyit^  up  her  laces,  looping  up  her  bait, 
Often  she  thinks,  were  this  wild  thing  wedded. 

More  love  should  I  have,  and  much  less  care. 
When  her  mother  tends  her  before  the  lighted  tnitror, 

Loosening  her  laCes,  combing  down  her  curb. 
Often  she  thinks,  were  this  wild  thing  wedded, 

I  should  miss  but  one  for  many  boys  and  girls. 

Heartless  she  is  as  the  shadow  ui  the  meadows. 
Flying  to  the  hilb  on  a  blue  and  breezy  noon. 

No,  she  is  atMrst  and  drinking  up  her  wonder: 
Earth  to  her  is  young  as  the  slip  of  the  new  moon. 


Love  in  the  Valley  557 

Deals  she  an  unkindnesa,  'tb  but  her  rapid  measure, 
Even  as  ia  a.  dance;  and  her  smile  can  hesl  no  less: 

TJke  the  swinging  May-doud  that  pelts  the  flowers  witk 
OS  asunay  border,  she  was  made  to  bniise and  blesK. 

Lovely  are  the  curves  of  the  while  owl  sweeping 

Wavy  in  the  dusk  lit  by  one  large  star. 
Lone  on  the  6r-branch,  his  rattle-note  unvaried, 

Ay,  but  shows  the  South'West  a  ripple-feathered  boeom 
Blown  fo  silver  while  the  clouds  are  shaken  and  ascend 

Scaling  the  mid  havens  as  they  stream,  there  comes  a  ftoosft 
Rich,  de^  like  love  ia  beauty  without  end. 

p:hy  Google 

55*  Poem9  of  Love  ' 

When  at  dawn  she  sighs,  and  like  an  infant-lo  the  windinr 

Turns  grave  eyes  craving  light,  released  from  dreams, 
Beautiful  she  looks,  like  a  white  water-lily 

Bursting  out  of  bud  in  havens  of  the  streaois. 
When  from  lied  she  rises  clothed  from  neck  to  ankle 

In  her  long  nightgown  sweet  as  boughs  of  May, 
Beautiful  she  looks,  like  a  tall  garden-lily 

Pure  from  the  night,  and  splendid  for  the  day. 

Mother  of  the  dews,<iark  eye-lashed  twilight, 

Low-Udded  twilight,  o'er  the  valley's  brim. 
Rounding  on  thy  breast  sings  the  dew-deli^ted  skylarfc, 

Clear  as  though  the  dcwdrops  had  their  voice  in  him. 
Hidden  where  the  rose-flush  drinks  the  rayless  planet, 

Fountain-full  he  p)ours  the  spraying  fountain-sfaowers. 
Let  me  hear  her  laughter,  I  would  have  her  ever 

Cool  as  dew  in  twilight,  the  krk  above  the  flowers. 

All  the  gitls  are  out  with  thei  ; 

Up  lanes,  woods  through,  t 
My  sweet  leads:  she  knows  n<  s. 

Eyes  the  bent  anemones,  ai 
Such  a  look  will  tell  that  the 

Coming  the  rose:  and  unaware  a  cry 
Springs  in  her  bosom  for  odors  and  for  color. 

Covert  and  the  nightingale;  she  knows  not  why. 

Kerchiefed  head  and  chin  she  darts  between  her  tulips. 

Streaming  likt  a  wiUow  gray  in  arrowy  rain: 
Some  bend  beaten  cheek  to  gravel,  and  their  angel 

She  will  be;  she  lifts  them,  and  on  she  speeds  again. 
Black  the  driving  rain  cloud  breasts  the  iron  gateway: 

She  is  forth  to  cheer  a  neighbor  lacking  mirth. 
So  when  sky  and  grass  met  rolling  dumb  for  thunder 

Saw  I  once  a  white  dove,  sole  light  of  earth. 

Prim  little  scholars  are  the  flowers  of  her  garden, 
Trained  to  stand  in  rows,  and  asking  if  they  please. 

I  might  love  them  well  but  for  loving  more  the  wld  ones; 
O  my  wild  ones!  they  tell  me  more  tbas  these. 


Love  in  the  Valley  559 

You,  my  wild  one,  you  tell  o(  honied  'fidd-iuse, 
Vi<riet,  bhishing  ^aatice  in  Itie;  and  even  as  they. 

They  by  the  wayside  are  earaest  of  your  goodness, 
You  are  of  life's,  on  the  banks  that  line  the  way. 

Peering  at  her  chambet  the  white  crowns  the  red  rose. 

Jasmine  winds  the  pon^  with  stars  two  and  three, 
lifted  is  the  window;  she  sleeps;  the  starry  jasmine 

Breathes  a  falling  breath  that  carries  thoughts  of  me. 
Sweeter  unpossessed,  have  I  said  of  her  my  sweetest? 

Not  while  she  sleeps;  while  she  sleeps  the  jasmine  breathes, 
Luring  her  to  love:  she  sleeps;  the  starry  jasmine 

Beats  me  to  her  pillow  under  white  rose-wreaths. 

Ydlow  with  birdfoot-trefoil  are  the  grass-glades; 

Ydlow  with  cinquefoil  of  the  dew-gray  leaf; 
YeBow  with  stonecrop;  the  moss-mounds  are  yellow; 

Blue-necked  the  wheat  S.ways,  yellowing  to  the  sheaf. 
Green-yellow  bursts  from  the  'copse  the  laughing  yaffle; 

Sharp  as  a  sickle  is  the  edge  of  shade  and  shine: 
Earth  in  her  heart  laughs  looking  at  the  heavens, 

Thinking  of  the  harvest:  I  look  and  think  of  mine. 

Front  door  and  back  of  the  mossed  old  farmhouse 

Open  with  the  morn,  and  in  a  breezy  link 
Freshly  sparkles  garden  to  stripe-shadowed  orchard, 

Green  across  a  rill  where  on  sand  the  minnows  wink. 
Busy  in  the  grass  the  early  sun  of  summer 

Swaims,  artd  the  blackbird's  meUow  fiuting  notes 
Call  my  darling  up  with  round  and  roguish  chidlen^t 

Quaintest,  richest  carol  of  all  the  singing  throatsi 


c6o  Poems  of  Love 

Cool  was  the  woodsidc;  cool  as  her  white  dairy 

Keepiog  sweet  the  cream-pan;  and  there  tie  boys  from 
Cricketing  below,  rushed  brown  and  red  with  sunshinci 

O  the  dark  tranducence  of  the  deep-eyed  cool! 
Spying  from  the  farm,  herself  she  fetched  a  pitcher 

Full  of  milk,  and  tilted  for  each  in  turn  the  beak. 
Then  a  little  fellow,  mouth  up  and  on  tiptoe. 

Said,  "I  will  kim  you":  she  laughed  and  leaned  her  cheek. 

Doves  of  the  fir-wood  walling  high_our  red  roof 

llirough  the  long  noon  coo,  crooning  through  the  coo. 
Loose  droop  the  leaves,  and  down  the  sleepy  roadway 

Sometimes  pipes  a  chaffinch;  loose  droops  the  blue. 
Cows  flap  a  slow  tail  knee-deep  in  the  river. 

Breathless,  given  up  to  sun  and  gnat  and  fly. 
Nowhere  is  she  seen;  and  if  I  see  her  nowhere. 

Lightning  may  come,  straight  rains  and  tiger  sky. 

O  the  golden  sheaf,  the  rustling  treasure -armful! 

0  the  nuibrown  tresses  nodding  interlaced! 
O  the  treasurc-tresscs  one  another  over 

Nodding!    O  the  girdle  slack  about  the  waist! 
Slain  are  the  poppies  that  shot  their  random  scarlet 

Quick  amid  the  wheat-ears:  wound  about  the  waist, 
datliercd,  see  these  brides  of  Earth  one  blush  of  ripenessl 

O  the  nutbrown  tresses  nodding  interlaced. 

Large  and  smoky  red  the  sun's  cold  disk  drops, 

Clipped  by  naked  hills,  on  violet  shaded  snow: 
Eastward  lai^e  and  still  lights  up  a  bower  of  moonrise, 

Whence  at  her  leisure  steps  the  moon  aglow. 
Nightlong  on  black  print -branches  our  beech-tree 

Gazes  in  this  whiteness:  nightlong  could  I. 
Here  may  life  on  death  or  death  on  life  be  painted. 

Let  me  chisp  her  soul  to  know  she  cannot  dtel 

CosKps  count  her  faults;  ihey  scout  a  narrow  chamber 
Where  Ihece  is  no  window,  read  not  heaven  or  her- 

"WheH  she  was  a  tiny,"  one  aged  woman  quavers. 
Plucks  at  my  heart  and  leads  me  by  the  ear. 


Love  in  the  Valley  j^j 

Faults  she  had  once  as  she  learned  to  run  and  tumbled: 
Faults  of  feature  some  see,  beanty  not  complete. 

Yet,  good  gossips,  beauty  that  makes  holy 
Eaitb  and  aii,  may  have  faults  from  head  to  feet. 

Hither  she  txjmes;  she  comes  to  me;  she  lingers, 

Deepens  her  brown  eyebrows,  while  in  new  surprise 
High  rise  the  lashes  in  wonder  of  a  stranger; 

Yet  am  I  the  light  and  living  of  her  eyes. 
Something  friends  have  told  her  Slls  her  heart  to  brimming, 

Nets  her  in  her  blushes,  and  wounds  her,  and  taines. — 
Sure  of  her  haven,  0  like  a  dove  alighting, 

Anns  up,  she  dropped:  oui  souls  were  in  our  names. 

Soon  will  she  lie  like  a  white  frost  sunrise. 

Yellow  oats  and  brown  wheat,  barley  pale  as  rye. 
Long  since  your  sheaves  have  yielded  to  the  thresher. 

Felt  the  Jjirdle  loosened,  seen  the  tresses  fly. 
Soon  will  she  lie  like  a  blood-red  sunset. 

Swift  with  the  tj-morrow,  green-winged  Spring! 
Sing  from  the  Sonth-west,  bring  her  back  the  truants. 

Nightingale  and  swallow,  song  and  dipping  wing. 

Soft  new  beech-leaves,  up  to  beamy  April 

Spreading  bough  on  bough  a  primrose  mountain,  you, 
Lucid  in  the  moon,  raise  Ulieg  to  the  skyfields, 

Youngest  green  transfused  in  silver  shining  through: 
Fairer  than  the  lily,  than  the  wild  white  cherry: 

Fair  as  in  image  my  seraph  love  appears 
Borne  to  me  by  dreams  when  dawn  is  at  my  eyelids: 

Fair  as  in  ihe  flesh  she  swims  to  me  on  tears. 

Could  I  find  a  place  to  be  alone  with  heaven, 

I  would  speak  my  heart  out:  heaven  is  my  need. 
Every  woodland  tree  is  flushing  like  the  dogK'ood, 

Flashing  like  the  whitebeam,  s\>(aying  like  the  reed. 
Flushing  like  the  dogwood  crimsoj^  in  October; 

Streaming  like  the  flag-reed  South-west  blown; 
Flashing  as  in  guata  the  sudden-Ughted  whitebeam: 

M  seem  to  know  what  is  for  heaven  alone. 

CmrgeUeredilh  IiSsB-iijogl 


yfia  ■    Poems  of  Love 

She  can  be  as  wise  as  we, 

And  wiser  when  she  wishes; 
She  can  knit  with  cunning  wit. 

And  dress  the  homely  dishes. 
She  can  flourish  staff  or  pen, 

And  deal  a  wound  that  lingers; 
She  can  talk  the  talk  of  men, 

And  touch  with  thrilling  fingers. 

Match  her  ye  across  the  sea. 

Natures  fond  and  fiery; 
Ye  who  zest  the  turtle's  nest 

With  the  eagle's  eyrie. 
Soft  and  loving  is  her  soul, 

Swift  and  lofty  soaring; 
Minng  with  its  dove-like  dole 

Passionate  adoring. 

Such  a  she  who'll  match  Tvith  lae? 

In  flying  or  pursuing, 
Subtle  wiles  are  in  her  smiles 

To  set  the  world  a-wooing. 
She  is  steadfast  as  a  star, 

And  yet  the  maddest  maiden: 
She  can  wage  a  gallant  war, 

And  give  the  peace  of  Eden. 

George  MertdUh  [i8a8-i 


My  lady  seems  of  ivory 

Forehead,  straight  nose,  and  checks  that  be 

Hollowed  a  little  mournfully. 

Beala  mea  Domina  ! 

Her  forehead,  overshadowed  much 
By  bows  of  hair,  has  a  wave  such 
As  God  was  good  to  make  Ear  me. 
Seata  mea  Domina  I 


Praise  of  My  Lady  5^3 

Not  greatly  long  my  lady's  hair, 
Nor  yet  with  ydlow  color  fair, 
But  thick  and  crispM  wonderfully: 
Beala  mea  Domina  I 

Heavy  to  make  the  pale  face  sad, 
And  dark,  but  dead  as  thou^  it  had 
Been  forged  by  God  most  wonderfoUy 
Beaia  mea  Domina  ! 

Of  some  strange  metal,  thread  by  thread. 
To  stand  out  from  my  kdy's  head, 
Not  moving  much  to  tangle  me. 

Beala  mea  Domina  I 
Beneath  her  brows  the  lids  fall  Bki«i 
The  lashes  a  dear  shadow  throw 
Where  I  would  wish  my  lips  to  be. 

.     Beata  mea  Domina  I 
Her  great  eyes,  standing  far  apart,  > 

Draw  up  some  memory  from  her  heart, 
And  gaze  out  very  mournfully:  ■ 

Beaia  mea  Domhta  I 

So  beaudftd  and  kind  they  are. 
But  most  times  looking  out  afar. 
Waiting  for  something,  not  for  me. 

Beata  mea  Domina  I 
I  wonder  if  the  lashes  long 
Are  those  that  do  her  bright  eyes  wrong. 
For  always  half  tears  seem  to  be 

Beata  mea  Domina  1 
Lurking  below  the  underlid, 
Darkening  the  place  where  they  He  hid : 
If  they  should  rise  and  flow  for  nie! 

Beaia  mea  Domina  ! 

Her  full  Hps  being  made  to  kiss, 
Curled  up  and  pensive  each  one  is; 
Hiis  makes  rae  faint  to  stand  and  see. 
Btaia  mea  Domina  I 


5^4  Poems  of  Love 

Her  lips  are  not  contented  now. 
Because  the  houra  pass  so  slow 
Towards  a  sweet  time;  (pray  for  mej, 
Beaia  mea  DotiUna  I 

Nay,  hold  thy  peacel  for  who  can  tell? 
But  this  at  least  I  know  full  well, 
Her  lips  aie  parted  longingly, 

Beala  mea  Domwa  I 

So  passionate  and  swift  to  move, 

To  pluck  at  any  flying  love, 

That  I  grow  faint  to  stand  and  see. 

Be<Ua  mat  Domina  I 
Yea!  there  beneath  them  is  her  chin. 
So  5ne  and  round,  it  were  a  sin 
To  fee!  no  weaker  when  I  see 

Beala  mea  Domiiia  / 
God's  dealings;  foi  with  so  much  care 
And  troublous,  faint  lines  wrought  in  th< 
He  finishes  her  face  for  me. 

Beala  mea  Domina  I 

Of  her  long  neck  what  shall  I  say? 

What  things  alxiut  her  body's  sway, 
Like  a  knight's  pennon  or  slim  tiee 
Beala  mea  Domino! 

Set  gently  waving  in  the  wind; 
Or  hei  long  hands  that  I  may  find 
On  some  day  sweet  to  move  o'er  me? 

Beala  mea  Domina  J 
God  pity  me  though,  if  I  missed 
The  telling,  how  along  her  wrist 
Tlie  veins  creep,  dying  languidly 

Beala  mea  Domiiia  1 

Inside  her  tender  paim  and  lltin. 
Now  give  me  pardon,  dear,  whsreiD 
My  voice  is  weak  and  vexes  thee. 
^eata  mta  Pomiita  I 

p-hy  Google 

Madonna  Mia  cSc 

Alt  men  that  see  her  any  time, 

I  charge  you  straightly  in  this  rhyme, 
What,  and  wherever  you  may  be, 
Beaja  mca  Domina  I 

To  kneel  belore  her;  as  for  me 

I  ch(Ae  and  grow  quite  faint  to  see 

My  lady  moving  graciously. 

Beaia  mea  Domina ! 

William  Mortis  [i8j4-i8g6j 


lJta)ER  green  apple  boughs 
That  never  a  storm  will  rouse. 
My  lady  hath  her  house 

Between  two  bowers; 
Id  either  of  the  twain 
Red  roses  full  of  rain; 
She  hath  for  bondwomen 

AH  kind  of  flowers. 

She  hath  no  handmaid  fair 
To  draw  her  curled  gold  hair 
Through  rings  of  gold  that  bear 

Her  whole  hair's  weight; 
She  hath  no  maids  to  stand 
Gold-clothed  on  either  hand; 
In  all  that  great  green  land 

None  is  so  great. 

She  hath  no  more  to  wear 
But  one  white  hood  of  vair 
Drawn  over  eyes  and  hair, 

Wrought  with  strange  gold, 
Made  for  some  great  queen's  head, 
Some  fair  great  queen  since  dead; 
And  one  strait  gown  of  red 

Against  the  cold. 


$66  Poems  of  Love 

Beneath  her  eyelids  deep  .    v 

Love  lying  seems  asleep, 

Love,  swift  to  wake,  to  weep,  ■  ■ 

To  laugh,  to  gaze; 
Her  breasts  are  like  white  birds, 
And  all  her  gracious  words 
As  wat«-grass  to  herds  , 

In  the  June-days. 

To  ber  ail  dews  that  fall 
And  rains  are  musical; 
Her  flowers  arc  fed  from  all. 

Her  joys  from  these; 
In  the  deep- feathered  firs 
Heir  gift  of  joy  is  hers, 
In  the  least  breath  that  stii&        , 

Across  the  trees. 

She  grows  with  greenest  leaves,    i 
Ripens  with  reddest  sheaves. 
Forge U,  remembers,  grieves. 

And  is  not  sad; 
The  quiet  lands  and  skies 
Leave  light  upon  her  eyes; 
None  knows  her,  weak  or  wis^ 

Ot  tired  or  glad. 

None  knows,  none  understajids. 
What  Howers  are  Lke  her  hands;    , 
Though  you  should  search  all  bode 

Wherein  time  grows, 
What  snows  are  like  her  feet, 
Though  his  eyes  bum  with  heat 
Through  gazing  on  my  sweet,— 

Vet  no  man  knows. 

Only  this  thing  is  said; 
That  white  and  gold  and  red, 
God's  three  chief  words,  man's  bread 
And  oil  and  wine. 


'Meet  We  No  Angels,'  Pansie?"    5.67 

♦  Were  given  her  lor  dowers,  , 

And  kingdom  of  all  hours. 
And  grace  of  goodly  flowers 
And  various  vine. 

This  is  my  lady's  praise: 
God  after  many  days 
Wrought  her  in  unkoown  ways, 

In  sunset  lands; 
This  is  my  lady's  birth;  ■    '  ■' 

God  gave  her  might  arid  mirth. 
And  laid  his  whole  sweet  earth 

Between  her  hands. 

Under  deep  apple  boughs 
My  lady  hath  her  house; 
She  wears  upon  her  brows 

The  flower  thereof; 
All  saying  but  what  God  saith 
To  her  is  as  vain  breath; 
She  is  more  strong  than  death, 

Being  strong  as  love. 

Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  [1837-1909I 


Cahe,  on  a  Sabbath  mom,  my  aweet, 

In  white,  to  find  her  lover; 
The  grass  grew  proud  beneath  her  feet, 

The  green  elm;leaves  above  her: — 
Meet  we  no  angels,  Pansie? 

She  saSd,  "We  meet  no  angels  now"; 

And  soft  £gbts  streamed  upon  her; 
And  with  white  hand  she  touched  a  bou^; 

She  did  it  that  great  honor:— 
What!  meet  no  angels,  pansie? 


^6^  Poems  of  Love  "   ' 

O  sweet  brown  hal,  brown  hair,  btowifeyes, 

Down-dropped  brown  eyes,  so  tender! 
Then  what  said  I? — gallant  rei^ies 
Seem  (lattery,  and  offend  her:— 
But, — meet  wc  no  angels,  Pansic? 

TlmnatA^lK  |[Sj6-iSSq] 


Like  apple-blossoms,  wiute  and  red; 

Like  hues  of  dawn,  which  fiy  too  soon; 
Like  bloom  of  peach,  so  softly  spread; 

Like  thorn  of  May  and  rose  of  June — 
Oh,  sweet!  oh,  fair!  beyond  compare. 

Are  Daphne's  cheeks, 
Are  Daphne's  blushing  cheeks,  I  swear. 

That  pretty  rose,  which  comes  and  goes 

Like  April  sunshine  in  the  sky, 
I  can  command  it  when  I  choose — 

See  how  it  rises  if  I  cry: 
Oh,  sweet!  oh,  fair!  beyond  compare. 

Are  Daphne's  cheeks. 
Are  Daphne's  blushing  cheeks,  I  swear. 

Ah!  when  it  lies  round  lips  and  eyes, 
And  fades  away,  again  to  spring, 

Nb  lover,  sure,  could  ask  for  more 
Than  still  to  cry,  and  still  to  sing: 

Oh,  sweet!  oh,  fair!  beyond  compare,   '     ' 
Are  Daphne's  cheeks,       " 

Are  Daphne's  bhishing  cheeks.  I  swear. 


Girl  of  the  red  mouth, 
Love  mc!    Love  me! 

Girl  of  the  red  mouth, 
Love  me! 

p:hy  Google 

The  Daughter  of  Mendoza  569 

*ns  by  its  curve,  I  know, 
Love  fashionetb  his  bow, 
And  bends  it— ^,  even  sol 

Oh,  girl  of  the  red  mouth,  love  mel 

Girl  of  the  blue  eye. 

Love  me!    Love  me! 

ar  lamps  on  high; 
world  lives  in  thy 
.ender  eye — 
Oh,  girl  of  the  blue  eye,  love  me! 

Girl  of  the  swaa's  neck, 

Love  me!    Love  me! 
Girl  of  the  swan's  neck, 

Love  me  I 
As  a  m^ble  Greek  doth  grow 
To  bis  steed's  back  of  snow,  ; 

Thy  white  neck  sits  thy  shoulder  so, — 

Oh,  girl  of  the  swan's  neck,  love  mel 

Girl  of  the  low  voice, 

Love  me!    Love  met 
Girl  of  the  sweet  voice, 

Love  met 
Like  the  echo  of  a  bdl, — 
Like  the  bubhiihg  of  a  well, — 
Sweeter!  Love  within  doth  dwell, — 

Ctfi,  girl  of  the  low  voice,  love  me! 

Martin  MacDermoU  liSis-igos] 


0  LEND  to  me,  sweet  nightingale, 
Vour  music  by  the  fountain. 

And  lend  to  me  your  cadences, 
0  river  of  the  mountain! 

p:hy  Google 

)  Poems  of  Love 

That  I  may  sing  my  gay  bruoette, 
A  diamond  spark  in  coral  set. 
Gem  for  a  prince's  coronet — 
The  daughter  of  Mendoza. 

How  brilliant  is  the  morning  star, 

The  evening  star  how  tender, — 
The  light  of  both  is  in  her  eyes, 

Their  softness  and  their  splendor. 
But  for  the  lash  that  shades  their  light 
They  were  too  dazzling  for  the  sight, 
And  when  she  shuts  them,  all  is  night — 

The  daughter  of  Mendoza. 

O  ever  bright  and  beauteous  one, 
Bewildering  and  beguiling, 

The  lute  is  in  thy  silvery  tones, 
The  rainbow  in  thy  smili